


The Girl With The Chocolate Hair

by Gaqalesqua



Category: Fable (Video Games), Fable 3 (Video Game)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-01-04 13:35:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12169932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gaqalesqua/pseuds/Gaqalesqua
Summary: Ben Finn meets a Princess in Mourningwood Fort, and it's all downhill from there.





	1. Chapter 1

Mourningwood Fort was a ruin of what it had once been, a grandiose structure towering above the trees. Great sections of wall were missing. The windows were gone. There wasn’t even a roof. He wondered idly how long it had stood and when it had fallen into decay. And then he wondered why Logan hadn’t done anything about it. The reply came within seconds. Logan didn’t do anything about anything.

The Swift Brigade had been relegated here for weeks, forced to kill the undead over and over again with slowly dwindling numbers. The soldiers had realised it was a suicide mission from the start. Ben Finn felt like it was a waste of good men and bad beef jerky. Logan didn’t exactly have thousands of soldiers to throw away at the moment. Destroying a loyal brigade meant he had some kind of ulterior motive and whatever it was Ben didn’t like it. It involved his death, after all; it was hardly a party he was going to get behind with unabashed vigour. At this point no one was even in it for the money since the chance of collecting and using it posthumously were second to none. And if they did manage to survive it would be another battle trying to collect their salaries. Getting money from Logan was like getting blood from a stone.

The late afternoon sun hovered overhead as he sat on a barrel polishing the rifle in his hands. A stone’s throw away, Major Swift was standing vacantly in a space staring off into the middle distance, his smoking pipe forgotten. Ben wondered what he was thinking about. Swiftie had no family that he knew of and no woman to warm his bed. There had been a few flings in his time but even they were just distractions. Ben wondered what exactly it was that drove a man into the middle of a dead woodland filled with the reanimated deceased.

Perhaps he didn’t want to know.

Tyrell shifted suddenly above him and his eyes were drawn to the movement. It was Tyrell’s rear. Not a pleasing sight. But the watchman had been still all day and now he was leaning over the battlements.

“What are you seeing up there?” Ben called.

“Movement,” Tyrell replied grimly. Swift looked up, his eyes focusing again.

“It’s not yet dark,” Ben muttered. “Do you think it’s hollow men?” he called up.

“No, I don’t hear growling,” Tyrell told him. “I can hear voices, though.”

The fort fell silent as the sound of a man’s voice grew louder. It was gruff, heavy and low. Swift’s brow quirked, and Ben’s head tilted as they analysed the voice.

“Is that…”

“Cease your movement!” Tyrell yelled suddenly. “Be you men or be you Hollow Men?”

The reply was in a sharp voice Ben knew well.

“Have you gone daft, boy? Do I look like a shambling, decrepit mess?”

Tyrell seemed to swallow his reply before he chose another.

“Walter? Is that you?”

“You’re halfway to hollow man yourself, boy; your eyes are terrible. I am the very same!”

“Tell Major Swift; Walter’s here!” Tyrell yelled down to Ben. The captain looked over at the Major, who puffed on his pipe with a slightly straighter back and approached the doors.

“What does Walter want with us?” Ben asked.

“Whatever it is, it must be important,” Swift replied. “Walter wouldn’t risk his neck coming down here for anything less. And he wouldn’t bother _me_ for anything less.”

The doors to the fort were pulled open by two of the soldiers, and Walter appeared as a gap grew between the wooden gates. He strode through authoritatively, coming to stand in from of Swift before grasping his hand and shaking it fiercely.  Behind him was a young woman, moving in a way Ben could only describe as gliding. Her head was high, her chocolate hair scraped back into a braid, her mud-splattered mercenary gear a vivid shade of purple that hurt his eyes after days of muted reds and browns. It seemed unusual for Walter to have a travelling companion with him. The majestic Walter-beast didn’t usually move with company unless they were soldiers, and he’d long since given up moving from bed to bed. So this girl was clearly necessary for something. Whoever she was, she was beautiful.  

“There he is! The one and only- Major Swift!” Walter bawled, a grin on his face.

“Walter!” Swift cried, removing his pipe from his mouth, “what in the blazes are you doing here?”

“We came looking for you! I have a proposition for you,” Walter replied.

The girl shifted, crossing her arms as she looked around the broken old fort, the crooked stalls full of weapons and the crude anvil. Her gaze swept over the graves and her lip seemed to tremble in pity.

“You came all this way to ‘proposition’ us?” Ben drawled. “And I thought you were here to save us from the legions of the damned.”

Walter looked at the Captain with a fond smile. “Ben Finn! It’s good to see you,” he breathed. “I take it the rumours about this place are true.”

Swift nodded, sighing. The group began walking along towards the graves.

“I’ll say,” he began, “you’ve never seen so many Hollow Men in one place. We’ve been stationed here for weeks, trying to eradicate them. Mainly, though, it’s us getting eradicated.”

The girl sat down on a crate and pulled a brush and a mirror out of her bag, undoing her braid and swiping the brush through the dark waves rhythmically. Ben was so busy watching the hypnotic movement he nearly tuned out the major.

“We lost some good men last night,” Swift sighed, gesturing to the graves he’d come to a halt in front of. “And the buggers will be back tonight.”

Walter’s expression was dark. “Logan just loves to send you on the best assignments, doesn’t he? That’s part of what I came here to talk about.”

Swift looked over at the girl, sighing.

“Was it necessary to bring us the princess?” he murmured.

“I know your concerns, old friend,” Walter replied. “But I needed to get her out of her brother’s grasp.”

Ben looked at the girl anew. He’d seen that face before, on portraits and books. Princess Rina, the old Queen’s youngest daughter. Supposedly a virtuous, good-natured young woman known for generosity and strength of spirit. A true champion of the people. No wonder Walter had dragged her out into the swamps to meet her troops. If she was the promising future Queen she’d need all the rapport with her subjects she could muster after Logan’s cock-up.

 “Very well then.” He turned to her. “Captain Finn will show you to the mortar. We could use a body up there. Ben, the Princess. Rina, Ben Finn.”

She nodded politely to him, smiling softly. “A pleasure, captain,” she said gently. The sound of her voice was sweet and mild, so different to the harsh voices of the soldiers around him. Ben became suddenly conscious of the smell he exuded, the mud and bloodstains on his uniform, and the hollow man gunk on his boots. She must have been well-raised not to comment on any of it. He cleared his throat and shot her a dazzling smile. A hint of blush raised itself on her creamy pale cheeks.

“Meet me on the wall when you’re ready, then. I’ll introduce you to Private Jammy,” Ben said.

“I look forward to it, captain,” she replied lightly. Ben nodded, spun on his heel, and fled up the ramparts to watch the horizon with Jammy. He might have been the luckiest sod in the fort, but the man only had one eye.

“You’ll probably be stuck by that mortar all night,” he heard Walter tell her. “Why don’t you look around first? Talk to the men. See who’s got your back. It never hurts to know who’s helping you.”

Did this girl ever stop nodding? It was her parting gesture to Walter as she stepped away to investigate the soldiers. The first one she came across, she immediately corrected his arm and weapon positioning, and the next time he fired a round, he finally struck a target, the way he’d been trying to for the last few days. She wandered off, encountering the three by the fire, and informed Grove that ‘sycophant’ was in fact a word, and not something that Tick had just made up. From what he could hear, she seemed to be advising him to locate a dictionary. Heading round the other side, she found their man selling potions, and he watched in surprise as she donated several of hers with some flippant explanation about her finding them unnecessary thus far. When she finally got up to the wall, Ben simply gestured to the heavily-injured young man beside him. Her mouth fell open in surprise.

“This is Private Jammy, Jammy, take it away.”

“It’s true what they say, you know. Jammiest soldier in Albion. 724 wounds and still standing,” the Private stated proudly. She swallowed, looking nervous.

“I don’t suppose you’ve ever used a mortar before? There’s nothing to it.” Ben paused. “There’s always a slight chance of maiming, of course, but, ah, I’m sure you’ll pick it up.” Her brows raised.

“Pick up what, the chance of maiming?” she asked worriedly.

Jammy spluttered. Ben cleared his throat.

“No, princess-”

“Rina, please,” she interjected.

“Rina, what I meant was-”

“-that I’ll pick up how to use a mortar.” She looked a little less concerned. “Captain Finn, one of the men told me that if I needed cheering up to talk to you, but you don’t seem to be very funny.”

“It wasn’t my intention to make you nervous on your first day on the job, princess, believe me,” he reassured her. “Relax.”

“Right, my life’s gonna be in your hands, so let’s make sure you know how to use this thing,” he told her. She nodded, stepping towards the artillery.

“Let’s hope you’re a good teacher.”

Jammy blushed and showed her how to hold the mortar. When he felt her grip was sufficient, he loaded the weapon and she turned it to face the scarecrow. Jammy lit the fuse and they retreated somewhat, watching the shot arc and explode, destroying the mess of sticks and straw. At the second shot, the Private seemed to be squealing, grinning from ear to ear at the sight of the burning carnage in front of them.

“Alright, Jammy, don’t get excited, you know what happens when you do,” Ben said, as she aimed at the last shot, her eyes widening and face stiffening. “Let’s just get rid of this one, shall we?”

“Hang on, I don’t remember setting this one up,” Jammy commented. Even as he spoke, a wisp shot inside the rack of bones and clothes. With a boom and a crash, it blew apart, and Ben and Jammy looked to Rina, holding the mortar with a look that could part stone.

“Ben! Get down here!” Swift barked, and the Captain turned and rushed down to the courtyard, helping his comrades to board up the windows and hold the doors. Above him, the mortar boomed and flashed as the Hero went to work, blowing up the oncoming tide of corpses as fast as she and Jammy could reload the weapon. With each group of Hollow Men destroyed, two more popped up, and the princess seemed to lose all her quiet demeanour as she switched from prim royal to swearing street girl. A lesser man might have winced at the near-constant stream of filth pouring from Rina’s mouth as she fought against the horde. It was when the dead began to knock heavily at their doors that she gave up the fight, and with a magnificent leap off the parapet she joined them on the fort floor. Ben registered that her sword had ‘Queen’ written on it, as she braced herself, and her palms lit up with Will.  

They held their positions, watching as the wood shuddered with each pound against it. Two soldiers leapt forward to try and strengthen it, but Swift hurriedly pulled them back and ordered them to draw. They did so, and when the door crashed down, and the wisps invaded the fort, the first row let off a volley of bullets. Several Hollow Men fell, and then the princess let forth the waves of fire and lightning she had been slowly gathering in her hands. A blast of power rolled through the undead, destroying almost all of the first wave. Ben barely saw her as she started to move, a blur of movement, fire and electricity. Hollow Men rose and fell as she passed, and even while his men fought like their breath was leaving them, she danced across the ground, fresh and unexhausted.

The night stretched over their heads like an unforgiving blanket, bitterly cold and sapping all the strength from their bones. It was only when, sometime later, the princess destroyed a Hollow Man, and Ben swivelled around to find most of their brigade still standing, and no more Hollow men. Nobody moved for a few seconds, refusing to believe that it was over. And to Ben’s endless chagrin, it soon proved not to be. Even as they watched, a wisp blew into the camp and crashed headfirst into a grave. A rotted corpse burst from the ground, gazing at the gathering with dead eyes and wafting a stench so foul Ben was certain he wouldn’t get the smell out for weeks.

“Leftenant Simmons! I specifically instructed you to remain buried!” Swift yelled. The princess' fingers flickered with will, her shoulders tense as her head followed the new Hollow Man's path.

“Oh, doesn’t _anyone_ follow orders around here anymore?!” Ben yelled. He was tired, he was dirty, and he smelt awful. All the soldier wanted was for the fighting to end so that he could go back to Bowerstone and take an hour long soak in a hot, scented bath. The princess shot him a grim smile, and Simmons exploded in a force that knocked out every single non-Hero in the area.

Rina swore.


	2. Chapter 2

When Ben’s eyes opened, the sun was coming up over the walls of the fort, he was propped up on a barrel, and the princess was brushing her hair again, her fingers trembling slightly. With a wince, he sat up, and she slid off the wall next to him, holding out her hand. he grasped it, feeling the ease with which she pulled him to his feet, and stumbled a little as he straightened up. His head was killing him.

“How long was I out for?” he groaned, rubbing the back of his head and cracking his back, a sound so loud the princess winced primly.

“Since around midnight. Walter woke first, and that was a few minutes ago,” she replied. “I took the liberty of digging a few graves whilst you were all out.”

“You did what?” Ben asked. “Oh, Avo’s tits, we left you alone for that long?”

“Forged a few swords, recalibrated the mortar, boarded up the windows,” she continued. “I was considering another hour of hopscotch when Walter woke up.”

The idea of a bored princess playing hopscotch whilst surrounded by unconscious men made Ben’s lips twitch gently. Her eyebrows raised as though she too found it funny, but other than that her expression remained neutral, and she gestured with her head for him to follow her, leading him over to Walter and a dazed-looking Swift, who was recuperating via a pipe as they arrived.

“We did it!” the major announced happily, looking around the gathered circle. “No, really! We did! But let us not forget the help given to us by our princess.”

“Let the poets tell our epic tale. The Swift Brigade fought! The princess killed a Hollow Man! Everyone was concussed! They won! The end,” Ben drawled. Rina raised a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh politely. Ben wondered who had told her fun was wrong.

“So, what do you say, Swift? Will you join us?” Walter asked, turning sombre.

Swift’s face grew troubled, and he took a few more draws on his pipe before he deigned to give Walter an answer. When he did, it was solemn, and conflicted.

“I swore to follow my King to the death; we all did. But this isn’t how it’s meant to be. The old guard has been tossed aside, and these new soldiers the king is recruiting don’t care about this land or its people.”

“Yeah, and I bet they get paid more,” Ben commented. Walter rolled his eyes without evening turning to face the captain.

“Shut up Ben,” he said.

“Walter has absolute faith in you, and after seeing you in battle, so do I,” the Major told the princess. “The Swift Brigade will follow you to the end- if you make a soldier’s oath. Bring the honour back to this uniform,” Swift bartered.

“I promise,” she told him, shaking his hand. “I trust the soldiers in purple as far as I can throw them.”

“Unless you need anything else, we’ll see you in Bowerstone,” Walter said, as he grasped Rina’s elbow and began to walk towards the gates.

“Oh yeah, and if you end up employing us in your rebellion, don’t forget the pay rise, okay?” Ben said cheekily.

“I wouldn’t dream of denying you money after what happened last night,” she told him quietly. Ben’s smile was fond as she left.

“So,” Swift said heavily, sitting down on a crate. Ben deposited himself beside the Major. “Would you follow that woman into battle?”

“It looks like I’m going to,” Ben told him. Swift took another drag on his pipe, looking weary. Ben immediately felt foolish. “Yes. Why?”

“Apologies,” the Major murmured. “Walter and I were around for much of the prince and princess’ lives. To let Logan fall like this feels tantamount to having betrayed my Queen. I can’t allow Princess Rina to go in the same lack of grace.”

“If you want my honest opinion, she seems polite and caring enough. She needs to laugh a bit more, sure, but she’s a good, strong fighter,” the Captain told him. “She keeps her promise, I’ll follow her into battle.”

Swift scratched his head, his expression neutral. Ben was reminded of the princess’ calm, collected expression.

“How was he?” Ben asked gently. “Logan, I mean. Growing up.”

“Always a quiet, unassuming boy,” Swift replied. “He loved maps. He liked playing games about exploration. I’m still not sure why he gave up travelling.”

“Saw enough of the world, came home to oppress people,” Ben grunted. Swift sighed.

“No, Logan isn’t…wasn’t that type of child.”

“People change, Swiftie,” Ben murmured. “I did.”

“I was hoping he wouldn’t,” Swift replied.

“You must’ve respected him once,” Ben grunted.

“When Logan and the Princess were growing up, Walter and I kept a constant guard around them. We were like fathers to the both of them. I have always trusted Logan’s judgement, but when he returned from Aurora there was a strange light in his eyes that I couldn’t understand. It’s…” he paused, searching for the words, “disappointing, to see how far he’s fallen.”

“So you cared about him?” Ben asked, surprised.

“Like a son.”

Unsure of what to say, the captain clapped his superior on the shoulder comfortingly. Swift smiled sadly and took a long drag on his pipe.

“You’d understand if you had a ward to care for and they went astray,” the Major sighed.

“I _was_ the ward that went astray,” Ben chuckled. “Me and my brothers.” The laughter fell from him and he nodded. “Go ahead, Swifty. Feel sad. But don’t get too down. We’ve got royal backing now – good royal backing.”

 _And she looks good in leather_ , he thought. Swift’s smile was more enthusiastic this time as he looked at his subordinate soldier.

“True. Perhaps she’ll be what this kingdom needs,” he chuckled. “She was certainly taking control when she was little.”

Both soldiers sat and enjoyed the sunrise shining on their faces, filled with optimism for the first time in months.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 The march back to Bowerstone was subdued. They were just enjoying the sun, and the sense of relief each felt at still being alive was enough to keep them quiet. They perked up a little when they passed the Mourningwood community. They stayed for a few days, buying drinks and recuperating in the little houses that the locals let them stay in, and when the trembling in their fingers at night had subsided, Swift ordered everyone to pack up. They soon discovered that the sewer pipes, while disgusting, brought them a feeling of security. They were no longer in danger of being attacked at any moment once the sun went down by beings that would simply rise again the next night. After Hollow Men, muggers and shoplifters would be a welcome change.

Most of the soldiers headed to the Riveter’s Rest when they finally got through the maze of pipes and back to Bowerstone. Swift and Ben disappeared discreetly down a side alley as the other men filed past, covering them from view. Swift pushed open a door and he and the Captain slid through, both holding their hands up. Both men padded quietly through the sewers until they came to a large room filled with boxes. Somebody’s gun clicked, and they turned to see a man holding a turret pistol at them, glaring.

“Who are you?” he growled.

“I am Major Swift, and this is Captain Finn,” the Major told him. “Walter should have told you all about us.”

“The Swift Brigade? A doomed group of heroes destined to die against the hordes of undead roaming Mourningwood?” Ben added. “Oh come on, tell me you’ve heard of us!”

“We know,” the man growled again. “Name’s Kidd. Head on through, but if you try anything, remember that all of us are armed.”

“On my honour as a gentleman,” Swift swore.

“I’m not a gentleman, so, ah, I can’t promise on that,” Ben chuckled. “On his life. I value that.”

Kidd gestured for them to move forward, and they did, lowering their hands and moving further into the base. They walked past dirty bed rolls and broken toys, empty bookshelves and rows of guns and cannons. The ground was soggy beneath them, watery in places, and they were about to double back to make sure they’d missed nothing when they spotted a young woman through a doorway, bent over a map table. She seemed to be studying it intently.

“Excuse me,” Swift began, clearing his throat. She straightened up, turning around, and Ben was treated to an eyeful of cleavage. “Major Swift, and Captain Finn. You must be Page. Walter told us all about you.”

“Wonderful,” the woman began. “The very type of people I wish knew nothing about me. I digress. Yes, I am Page, the leader of the Bowerstone Resistance. You are Major William Swift and Captain Benjamin Finn of the eponymous ‘Swift Brigade’, recently stationed in Mourningwood and having returned to the capital due to completion of the mission – or, rendezvous with the Princess of Albion and Walter Beck, unbeknownst to your king. Do you wish to know more, or shall I begin briefing you on the current situation in Bowerstone?”

“A briefing would be excellent,” Swift replied politely. The woman snorted.

“Here’s the easiest way to phrase it. Reaver is clamping down on the workers’ freedom, whilst the taxes are being raised monthly, if not weekly. If you sleep on the streets, you get your head kicked in by an Elite,” she said plainly. “Your redcoats are vanishing and are quickly being replaced by purple Elite.”

“Logan’s purging the army?” Ben asked. Page nodded.

“The brutes are being left in rank or promoted to Elite. Anyone who disagrees is dishonourably discharged, some even executed,” Page told him.

“We knew there was trouble with the wages when we left, but this is worse than I’d feared,” Swift sighed.

“After legions of undead, a few thuggish guards should be easy pickings,” Ben snorted.

“Hollow Men?” Page repeated, as Walter entered the room, clapping Swift’s arm genially. The old soldier turned an eye on Ben as the Captain smirked.

“Indeed. I made some crack shots on some of those shambling messes,” he announced. “Three in one. The princess can attest.”

“I don’t believe it,” Page deadpanned.  

“It’s true!” Ben protested. “I downed three Hollow Men in one shot! Walter!”

“Hey, I’m not getting involved!” Walter said, sticking up his hands defensively.

“I never trusted a soldier in my life. I’m not about to start now,” Page quipped, turning as the door opened.

“Look, there she is, ask her yourself,” Ben huffed, as Rina entered the room. Page gave her a brief smile.

“You know, for a princess, you’re a pretty decent person,” Page stated.

“I wish you didn’t feel the need to say that, in all honesty,” Rina admitted. “Logan should have never done what he did, and I’m sorry I have to represent the positive side of the monarchy.”

“You are not your brother,” Page told her earnestly. “I’m beginning to feel as though there is hope for Albion after all.”

“Thank you, Page,” Rina said gently.

“See, I _knew_ you two would get along in the end,” Walter commented with a smile. Rina let out a tiny laugh as Page rolled her eyes. What interesting timing Walter had to bestow certain comments.

“Thankyou for taking an interest in my social life, but we’ve got even bigger problems right now,” Page said, and Ben could have sworn she ground her teeth at the thought. Rina’s smile died on her lips the moment Walter uttered the next word.

 “Reaver.”

“He’s been bleeding the city dry for years, but it’s never been this bad,” Page said with a sigh, leaning over the map table. Ben, ever the man willing to take a risk, had an opportunity to look down that gorgeous leather top that pushed up her breasts so beautifully, but as his eyes flicked over, he caught an expression on the princess’ face that pulled him away from Page’s extraordinary bosom. Rina’s brown eyes were huge and soft with worry, a gentle, maternal expression that was reminiscent of Ben’s own mother when he had been only young – a look she reserved for when she’d no idea what to do with her raucous, criminal sons. It made Ben swallow and feel ashamed.

“We decided it was time to fight back,” the rebel began decisively, and her expression was of sorrow.

“A small group of fighters managed to get into his mansion, but they never made it out,” Walter stated.

“I believe they’re alive. You’re going to help me find them,” Page told her.

“What do you propose we do?” she asked, her full attention on Page.

“Reaver hosts some sort of fancy secret society party every week,” Walter stated. “We don’t know what goes on. This is Reaver, so I’m certain somebody has at least a general idea. But we do know what the guests look like. It’s the perfect chance to sneak in.”

Page handed Rina a package. It was squashy, and soft, and Ben could see the interest on the princess’ face. It was clothes.

“Here. You’ll have to wear this,” Page said with a sigh, as though the idea of being in costume disgusted her. Ben wondered idly how many frills Page’s costume had. He looked at the rebel gleefully.

“Great! Where’s my costume?” He asked. “What, I still can’t come? Even after the three Hollow Men story?”

“Everybody out. I need to change,” Page growled.

“I’ll stay here. Make sure no-one spies on you,” Ben teased, grinning. That actually earned him a glare from Rina, and he made himself scarce awkwardly.

“Please don’t let Mr Finn follow you,” he heard Page warning her. “I’ve had enough of him for one day.” Ben watched as she nodded, closing the door and heading away to the Sanctuary with a flash of teleportation, leaving Page to change and Ben to go find himself a good drink.

They found a bar somewhere in the rebel headquarters, and the soldiers currently in the sewers joined them. The air between the rebels and the redcoats was terse for a few moments, but eventually they warmed up to each other, and soon they were sharing stories like old friends. Swift sat on his chair, relaxed for the first time in weeks, and Ben was swigging on a beer, enjoying the gentle buzz of alcohol, when a blaze of light filled the room, and the Princess stepped out of it. Ben tried not to spit out his drink, laugh too hard, or let his jaw drop. The masquerade clothes she wore were simultaneously lovely and ridiculous. It was a mess of frills and pomp, in a sky blue mixed with soft pink. Still, the open square neck that exposed the tops of her breasts was not an unwelcome feature. The large skirt and trousers that came with them looked ridiculous, and yet she still looked lovely.

“Don’t laugh,” she pleaded. “I know it looks terrible.”

“Nice colours,” Ben commented.

“It’s a dye job,” she sighed. “The original colours were some ghastly shade of dark cream, eggshell and blue.” She twirled and there was a smattering of applause from the gathered troops. “Would you take me like this?” she asked. Ben choked on his drink.

 _Bent over a desk?_ He wanted to ask, but he didn’t. “It looks fine. You’ve probably got a fight on your hands anyway,” he commented.

“I like the hat though,” she added after a pause.

“The hat’s ridiculous.”

“Piss off, Finn.”

“It is! You go through any doors, you’re going to knock it off your head and it’s going to get ruined,” he insisted. “And then you’ll cry, I promise you.”

“I am a princess,” she said calmly. “I don’t cry over clothes.”

“All I’m saying, is don’t get too attached to that _chapeau_ of yours, mate. It’s a recipe for disaster,” he warned her.

“You’re just jealous,” she decided. He spluttered.

“Am not.”

“I didn’t mean of the hat,” she informed him. “You want to go to the masquerade, yes? Because you like Page.”

“Page,” Ben began confidently, “is a rather beautiful and charming woman with a great rack. Seeing her in frilly frippery would be ace.” He watched the princess fold her arms, brow raising behind the mask.

“I have nothing to say to that,” she decided finally, sighing. “Stay safe, Major Swift,” she added.

“I shall do so, Princess,” the soldier promised. “Logan will no doubt want to know the reason behind our retreat.”

“Tell him insurmountable odds, insist that your men are not disposable, and assure him of your undying loyalty,” Rina suggested. “But if you can think of a better strategy, then use it. At this point, I’m not sure how to talk to my brother anymore.”

Her teasing mood had vanished, and Ben turned back to his drink. That gentle expression on her face, whether sadness or kindness, had a strange way of turning his gut upside down.

“I’ll see you when I’m back from the party,” she called, turning and vanishing into a wave of light. Ben blinked in surprise, fixated on the spot where she used to be, before watching Swift stand, brush off his jacket, and salute his men.

“I’m off to the castle, to give Logan my report,” the Major said. “I shan’t be too long.”

“I’ll pay ahead for your next drink,” Ben promised.

“Better make it a port,” Swift muttered. “I’m going to need something strong.”


	4. Chapter 4

To say that Page looked uncomfortable in her masquerade down was an understatement. She itched her sleeves and stood awkwardly, almost a completely different person to the woman who had barked orders and strutted powerfully around the Bowerstone sewers that morning.

“That outfit really suits you,” the rebel admitted as Rina approached, and the princess blushed. That was unexpected. “Brings out the colour in your eyes.”

“You look dashing,” Rina replied. “But that wig is going to be a bugger to wear whilst fighting.”

“Don’t I know it,” Page sighed. “Shall we?”

Rina smiled at her and walked away towards the large doors, pushing them open. The smell of sex and alcohol smacked them both in the face, and the two women paused to take a deep breath of fresh air before they braved their way inside. A butler bearing Reaver’s Sigil gazed upon them critically as they entered.

“A bit late, aren’t you? You’ve missed half the rituals and all the drinking. All we’ve got left is fizzy pop.”

“Umm....We apologise.”

“Oh yeah? Well, just give me the password and we’ll forget all about it, all right?”

“The…password?”

“No, I’m just pulling your leg. Come on in.”

The party-crashers followed him as he turned and headed towards the stairs.

“Master Reaver will be happy to have a few conscious people around for the final ceremony,” the butler began. “I wasn’t joking about the fizzy pop though. These lightweights drank the lot.”

Page’s eyebrow quirked. She rolled her eyes but said nothing.

“There’s probably some cooking sherry left in the kitchen, _if you’re desperate.”_

There was an empty pause filled only by the clack of heels on marble flooring, and the sound of someone hitting the dust as Rina shoved away a man emptying his guts onto said floor.

 “No? Don’t blame you. Never touch the stuff myself. Well, except in the mornings.”

The mess of food on the table distracted Rina momentarily before the butler said something she’d never want to hear again.

“I can sort you out a nice orgy later on, should the mood take you. What do you say?”

“Just. Keep. Walking, you strange little man,” Page hissed. Up ahead, two large wooden doors, shut tight, loomed at the end of the hallway. Rina could sense how itchy Page’s trigger finger was. She herself was tempted to blow the lecher’s brains out and storm the rest of the mansion.

“Of course, of course. You’ll have to pardon me, miss,” the butler hurriedly apologised. “I do have a habit of spouting the odd vulgarity. Master Reaver has often brought out his whip to rectify that very flaw in my character.” A pained noise was tacked softly onto the end of the sentence. Rina refused to think about it.

When they reached the doors, the butler stopped, turned on his heel, and faced them with what could be considered a smile.

“It’s just this way. Oh, you’ll have such fun. Not ‘drinks and orgies’ fun, you know, but, it’ll be a real laugh, I’m sure.” There was a pause. “Now, there are some ground rules. Master Reaver insists that nobody carries weapons into the ballroom. There have been some ‘accidents’.”

“I’m afraid I need to keep mine. I’m here to find some friends,” Page insisted.

“Oh! You’re the brave, noble rebels!” he gasped. “Why didn’t you say so?! I’m an oppressed proletarian myself, you know. We’re practically comrades!”

Rina felt like she had more in common with her dog than this man, whoever he was. A butler of Reaver’s, offering comradeship? Laughable.

“If just go through those doors, you can sneak past the party and  rescue your fellow revolutionaries!”

Neither of them bought it, not for a second, and with an increasing sense of dread, the rebel leader and the princess pushed open the doors, rushing into a circular room that contained a cage, and a beaten-up rebel.

“There’s one of my men!”

Page ran over to the cage, grabbing the bars.

“Kidd! Are you all right?”

“Get out! Now!” Kidd begged.

“Where’re the others?” Page asked.

“All dead! Reaver knew you’d come. He’s been waiting for you! Get out of here! Hurry!” The cage began to lift.

“What?!” Page gasped.

“I’ll get him out,” Rina muttered, grasping hold of the cage.

“My, my, my! More busy little bees here to steal Reaver’s honey! So industrious! So committed! So _bloody_ annoying!” a voice called from above, and with a sickening sense of revulsion the princess and the rebel looked up to see the leader of Albion’s industry standing languidly above them, decked in an ironic amount of white for one so terrible. Rina, caught on the bars and trying to reach the lock with her gauntlet, simply hung there awkwardly as he sighed.

“When will you people learn to enjoy life?”

 “I’ll enjoy killing you. Does that count?” Page snarled at him.

“Oh, you’re just full of spunk, aren’t you? A true heroine. You must be lightning under the bed sheets,” the immortal drawled lecherously. Page’s face burned in embarrassment beneath her mask. “And now, as promised, the evening’s piece de la resistance. Another piece of the resistance.” He pulled a lever in front of him with a smirk. “Viola!”

Rina heard the sound of machinery activating, and finally dropped from the cage, landing with a heavy thump on the floor.

“Do try to put on a good show for my guests, won’t you?” he sighed.

“Show? You expect us to entertain you?!” Page demanded.

“But of course!” Reaver purred. “It’s just a game, my little sweet.”

“The wheel of misfortune! It’s rather simple; I spin, you die, we watch. Really, it’s a riot!”

At that moment the dial on the huge cog in front of them began to turn. Rina eyed each symbol. Of them seven present, she could identify four – wolves, hobbes, mercenaries and hollow men. The cloaked figure was new, as was the snarling head, and the last was nothing more than a question mark. How helpful.

And then the hand on the dial fell on Hobbes.

“Why, no less than the most unsightly, most obnoxious creatures ever to contaminate this world. Super!”

“You’ve met Hobbes before, haven’t you?” Rina asked as they walked over to a set of sliding doors that opened into the Hobbe arena.

“They’re in places in Bowerstone’s sewers,” Page said. “Tough buggers. More than they should be.”

“Get ready to fight them,” Rina warned. “I know four of our enemies. Any idea what that snarling head is? Or the cloaked one?”

“No,” Page said. “But it can’t be anything good.”

“That,” Rina decided, “is likely an understatement.”

The nobles gathered above them, peering curiously down at the two women entering the arena. Rina wondered how they’d react if she tore off her mask and told them who she was.

Reaver burst through the door calling out loudly. “You will laugh, you will cry, you will have your sinews gnawed upon! Being out the Hobbes!”

Each woman took a stance in the arena and as waves of lumpy creatures leapt towards them, Rina’s ears were regaled with the sound of Barry Hatch’s useless commentary. It was a flurry of limbs and gunfire, with Hobbe bodies flying through the air as the rebel and the hero dispatched their opponents with a frightening display of force and skill. Blood splattered the floor, hissed into the torches, and mussed the blue on Rina’s clothes, as she cut swathes through her enemies. Page fared little better, her gun smoking as she took shot after shot at the grubby beasts. They were methodically downed, and when both women, breathing heavily and covered in gore, turned to glare up at Reaver, given a sudden respite by the emptying of all his Hobbes, he just _shrugged_.

“One almost feels sorry for those repugnant beasts. Then one shrugs and waits for the next piece of carnage,” he announced. Rina wanted to shoot off his hat.

She helped Page back to the Wheel room, passing her one of her spare potions.

“Reaver’s worse than I thought,” Page panted. “What kind of mind dreams up something like this?!”

“This is the man in charge of Albion’s industry, responsible for its leaps and bounds. You truly believe he gets there within the limits of the law?”

“This is beyond everything I’d dreamed him capable of. And your brother put him in charge of industry!”

“I know,” the princess sighed.

 

* * *

 

 

The wheel spun three more times, engaging the two with Hollow Men, Mercenaries, and a strange species called Sand Furies. They rivalled even Rina in their athleticism, skilled at dodging and brilliant with their weapons, but finally, every opponent was downed, and they made their way back to the central chamber with heavy feet.

“I’m very nearly ready to end this,” Page snarled. “We have to get out of here.”

“I quite agree!” Reaver called. “It’s high time you pathetic, holier-than-thou idealists stopped squirming and died. Can’t you see, my guests are restless?”

Rina watched Reaver’s butler twirling a woman around and pat her bottom. The dial began to spin again, round and round, until Page had to look away. Rina was fixated on the noblewoman, whose teeth had begun to elongate, and she stepped over to Page, and realised that the rebel was staring in curiosity at the dial.

“You have no idea what this one is?” Page repeated, staring at the image it had landed on. It was the strange, snarling beast. At that moment, a scream rent the air, and Rina watched a giant, furry creature jump on the hapless butler and begin to tear him open.

“Oh, dear,” Reaver sighed watching the beast with interest as it tore open his servant. “Do you brutes have _any_ idea how hard it is to find good staff?” He flicked his eyes back to the princess and the rebel and smiled. “Still, might as well enjoy the show. What’s the use of a secret society…without any secrets?”

_Squashed nose, raised shoulders, glowing eyes, long limbs, huge claws. Think, think, think!_

“Page, it’s…”

The beast howled.

_Piercing howl to instil fear in its victims. Do not engage in physical combat unless possessed with Heroic blood or foolish quantities of alcohol._

It leapt down onto the floor, and was quickly followed by its brethren.

“This can’t be happening,” Page gasped. “What are these things?!”

“Balverines! They’re Balverines! Don’t let them bite you!” Rina warned.

“I hope you’re finding them amusing to fight! I don’t want you to get bored!” Reaver drawled, watching them with one hand on his commentating device. Rina flipped him the finger as she stabbed a Balverine in the head, taking a blow for Page as she let a Balverine tackle her, shoving its chest with her powerful legs and throwing it backwards.

“I’m going to have nightmares for weeks!” Page snarled, as Reaver chuckled angrily above them.

“Do you know, I do believe you may survive this after all!” he commented. “How wonderfully unexpected!”

She smashed the pommel of her sword into a Balverine’s nose and let fly the first gout of flame she’d conjured all evening, backing it up with a powerful blast of lightning. A disgusting smell of roasted fur met her nose, and she gagged, staggering away and stabbing another monster in the eye.

“You do handle yourself rather well,” Reaver observed. “My suspicions about your true nature would seem to be correct!”

How many rebels could blast Will in the form of fire and lightning? Her height alone marked her as a Hero. Reaver had known her mother and likely many more Heroes, so if he could recognise one from a distance, Rina was not surprised.

Beast after beast rose and fell, and Rina almost slipped on a puddle of blood.

“Such magnificent beasts!” Reaver cried. “The strength! The power! The cute snouts.”

Rina broke a bottle of summoning potion as she took her place in the middle of the room, summoning all of her Will as her fingers crackled and sparked.

“What are you doing?” Page demanded.

“Keep them off me! I’ve got a plan!” the princess called, and then bent under the pressure of her magic. Heat filled the air, sucking out oxygen as flames gathered in her palms. Even Reaver’s voice cut itself off as he watched her, leaning over the balcony with intrigue. Balverines surrounded her, barely fended off by Page and her summons, but when glimmering, scything arcs of fiery light began to circle her, Rina let rip, slamming her hands down onto the floor. Fire and lightning rose up, consuming her enemies in a bright, hot wave that filled the entire arena. Reaver moved back from the balcony with a loud laugh of surprise.

She stood shakily, power flowing through her veins as a near-orgasmic moan dropped from the industrious deviant’s lips.

“This is the last party I take you to,” Rina told Page, who merely drew her pistol and shot the Balverine that had dragged itself from the ashes and reared up over the princess’ shoulder.

“Well, I must say, you’ve made me out to be a rather poor host. Rather rude of you to dispose of my guests,” Reaver began, flustered at the sight of the two haggard, panting women below him.

“Now it’s your turn, Reaver,” Page spat, and shot. Reaver simply held up his cane, a smirk gracing his lips, and deflected it, sighing.

“Oh my dear girl, why not stop all this unpleasantness and go up to my quarters? The three of us could have a private party,” Reaver suggested.

“Do you have any idea who this is?” Page snapped angrily. “It’s Logan’s sister, the princess.”

“The king’s sister, a bona fide Hero. Well, I’d never come between such public sibling rivalry…well that’s not strictly true, there was that one time…anyway, best of luck with this revolutionary lark! Perhaps we’ll meet again one day! Tatty bye!”

And Reaver, from all that Rina could deduce of the situation, turned and fled. Fled. He disappeared hurriedly from the balcony, no doubt into some back room with hidden escape tunnels and whatnot. He always had a thing for escape tunnels.

“Bloody coward,” Page swore, and then the mad thumping above them forced Page and Rina to remember the trapped Kidd.

“Would someone mind getting us out of here now?” he snapped.

 

* * *

 

 

“I never thought I’d side with royal blood. But you’re nothing like your brother. The Bowerstone Resistence is yours, Princess,” Page told her. “So long as you promise to change things when you take the throne. Child labour must end. The people shouldn’t live in fear of you.”

“I promise.”

Hands were shaken, and Page felt time stop briefly before it seemed to come back again.

“We have a revolution to plan,” the rebel leader told the princess.

“All citizens gather at the castle for the king’s message! The speech will commence shortly!”

A town crier caught their attention, and Rina moved towards him in curiosity.

“Excuse me, what’s this about a speech?” she asked.

“King Logan has asked all subjects to go to the castle to hear his speech,” the man told her. “As soon as you can, the speech is very soon!”

“This is not good,” Kidd growled. “I can feel it.”

“You go see what Logan wants,” Page suggested to the princess. “I’d come with you, but…there’s a reason we stay underground.”

“I’ll head back to the rebel headquarters first,” Rina said. She disappeared in a flash of light before Page could say anything, leaving the rebels with a long walk back to Bowerstone alone.


	5. Chapter 5

“Walter!” Rina called, appearing from a glowing white rip in the world.

“Rina?” the soldier called back. “You’re back! What happened? Where’s Page?”

“She and Kidd are walking back from Millfields,” the princess said. “He was the only one left.”

“And…the party?”

“Balverines,” she stated. “Every last one of those guests. Sodding Balverines. That was the secret of their secret society! Ridiculous!”

“Hold on, did I hear you say Balverines?” Ben asked, jogging over.

“And Balverines _smell!_ ” the princess continued. “Next time I fight them it’s ice or nothing! Fire and lightning just…ugh…ugh! The fur when it burns!”

It was the most animated he’d seen her since she’d left for the party. It brought a smile to his face as she waved her arms around. In the next moment, she paused.

“Never mind the party, Logan’s giving a speech at the castle. We should see what it’s about,” she added.

“Good! I was about to mention it,” Walter said. “Take Ben, he’s getting antsy, and he’s just tricked three soldiers out of their chocolate rations at a game of Keystone.”

A flicker of a smile touched the princess’ lips as Ben fetched his gun.

“No, leave it,” she said quickly. “People will get suspicious. I’ll get you a pistol. Meet me outside the castle.”

And with that she was gone, disappearing back into bright white light. Ben shrugged, dropping the gun and placing it down on a barrel.

“Keep Vanessa safe,” he told Walter. “Or else I’m going to shave off that beard you love.”

“Do that and I’ll cut off of your hair,” Walter threatened. “No woman will look at you twice after that.”

“Walter you shit,” Ben cursed, and stalked out of the tunnels.

 

* * *

 

 

He kept a careful watch on the other guards as he headed towards the castle, hiding from elite, but the captain managed to get to the castle in one piece. Rina was just arriving as he was, and he eyed up the new clothing she wore and tried to keep a straight face. Did that damned woman really have no idea how good she looked? The tight-fitting trousers and fashionable boots of a highwayman were complemented by a man’s mercenary jacket, and her pink mask, which framed her eyes beautifully.

“Let’s see this speech,” Rina sighed, and she and Ben made their way up the long road towards the castle.

“He hasn’t done speeches in years,” Ben muttered. “Don’t want to know the reason behind this one.”

“I can’t see my brother posturing,” Rina agreed. “So I don’t think I do either.”

“He doesn’t posture?” Ben asked. “Not even a little bit? You’ve never caught the arse posing in front of the mirror?”

“Never,” Rina replied.

“Oh come on. A man doesn’t wear boots that high for good leg support,” Ben argued. She giggled faintly at the sudden image of Logan posing in front of his full-length mirror.

“Oh, that’s disgusting,” she laughed. “I hate you so much, Ben Finn. That’s an image I can’t easily burn from my memory.”

“Hate me all you like, it’s nice to hear you laugh,” he said.

“Yes, well,” she began, and composed herself. “Princesses must have composure and politeness wherever they are.” Her smile slipped, and Ben sensed he’d touched a nerve.

“Even when socking a man in the face,” he added.

“Even then,” she agreed. “Let’s get to the castle, and quickly.”

And she ignored him for the rest of their short journey. But the crowd in the castle’s courtyard made her stop short. Ben had to usher her forward, watching her firmly fix the mask as her brother appeared at the top of the twin stairs.

“Loyal subjects of Albion, I have called you all hear to deliver a warning about traitors.” There was a gasp. “Yes. Traitors walk amongst us. Traitors plot to end us. Traitors would have you believe their cause is noble.”

There was a venom in his voice Rina had not heard in ages.

“They wear many masks, and they may look like anyone. Your friends. Family. And sometimes, they even look like your most trusted advisors.”

Rina’s mouth fell open in shock and horror, hands flying to her face, as her brother snarled and spat.

“This…this is the face of a traitor!” he barked, and they watched in horror as Major Swift’s bruised, battered form was pulled onto the lower platform. Ben gasped in fear.

“Major Swift, a respected member of the army, and sworn servant of the kingdom, of our people, has plotted against us all!” Logan spat. “He was apprehended attempting to turn loyal soldiers of the kingdom against us, and is thus charged with espionage, treason, and conspiracy.”

Ben’s face cracked, his fists clenching. Rina watched her father-figure, hunched over and disgraced, as soldiers pulled him up.

“Yet, there are still others who would dare to darken our land with their betrayal. We shall hunt these traitors down, wherever they may be. And they shall suffer the same fate as Major Swift. The fate of all enemies of the crown!”

Only Rina heard it, the crack in his voice as he swept his hands out and let his soldiers pull the trigger. Like her, he was forced to watch the man who’d cared for him die. But unlike her, he was the cause of it. Ben reached out like a child for a parent, and then pulled back as Rina gripped his shoulder.

“He has to be stopped,” Ben growled. “No matter what it takes. He has to be-”

He paused, angry, tears prickling his eyes as he turned to her. For a moment, he glared, and Rina wondered if he saw something of her brother in her.

“We need to tell the others. I need to…I need to-”

He took off running, faster than Rina had anticipated, and she charged after him, yelling his name. He couldn’t just plough wildly through Bowerstone! He was a wanted criminal!

He led her a merry chase towards the Industrial quarter, and she lost him for a brief moment before she spotted him coming out of the Riveter’s rest, something in his hands. She watched him go, and internally debated with herself whether to follow. Did he need to be alone?

And then she felt her heart shatter as she remembered the way Swift had fallen, and the tears she had been too distracted to shed came pouring out.

No.

She didn’t want to be alone. And likely neither did he.

She found him behind a few crates by the waterside, a bottle in his hands opened, but full to the brim. He looked up at her with the briefest of glances before staring back at the water, placing the bottle away from the both of them. She took her mask off and tossed it in the water, and sat down beside him to wipe her eyes.

“Save some for me,” she mumbled, and took the bottle, swigging it back and making a face before passing it to him. He joined her in taking a mouthful, and they sat, gazing out across the smoggy water in silence for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I can’t imagine-”

“Yes you can,” she interjected. “You can. You’ve lost him too. He was like a father to you too. Don’t tell me you don’t know. I know you do. I think you’re the only one who does.”

Ben actually looked a little happier after she said that, and she gripped his hand tightly.

“He was always around when I was young,” she began. “Training, instructing guards, helping my mother. He was there when she died. He looked after me all the time. When I wasn’t in lessons, when I wasn’t exploring with my friend, I would be with him, playing games and telling him things. I never knew my father, but, Swift was enough.”

“He found me when I was on a downward spiral,” Ben said. “Stopped me from doing something stupid. Everything stupid. Vouched for me when I sighed up to the army. Bastard barely knew me and he had more faith than my own father. He told me I was better than a mercenary or a pirate. I always wanted to be what he saw in me.”

“You are,” Rina told him. “You’re the man who made friends with a badly-wounded soldier and tried to placate a nervous princess. You’re the one who fought like a demon against a hopeless enemy and never stopped wise-cracking the entire way through.”

“You notice all the good in people and never the bad,” he told her.

“You weren’t at Reaver’s manor,” she snorted. “I certainly noticed the bad in the party guests. And the butler offered to set us up in an orgy. And the Balverines who wanted to rip me and my stupid but expensive party clothes to shred.”

“Don’t blame you,” Ben said. “Those clothes were great.”

“On me, or in general?” she teased.

“On you,” the soldier replied. There was a pause. “We should get back. Walter needs to know what happened. Page might have come back from Millfields by now.”

“You think I looked nice?” Rina asked, as he tossed the bottle in the ocean.

“The colour choices were just brilliant,” he told her. “The pink and blue? All pastel. Nice.”

“You’re teasing,” she said.

“I am not. Both you and Page looked a solid ten out of ten,” he said.

“You know she’s not interested in you,” Rina sighed. “She looked more happy to see Kidd and walk back alone with him than mere comradeship would entail.”

She tried to pull her hand away, and Ben gripped it tightly, staring at her with his big blue eyes.

“Well then, I should cut my losses and move on to a more willing lady, wouldn’t you say?” he suggested, and kissed the top of her hand. “Let’s get a move on, princess.”

“Ben,” she began.

“Yes?”

“Stop calling me princess,” she requested.

“Yes your highness,” he replied.

“Arse.”

“I’ve been complimented on it.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“What did you mean?” he asked.

“Never mind.” She looked sad. “It’s…it won’t fit any more. Let’s simply return to the sewers and speak to Page and the others.”

Had he imagined her dropping back into a more regal speech pattern? But when she walked away from him, leaving his hand, it was the walk of a princess, back straight, head high.


	6. Chapter 6

“Page’s men told us what happened,” Walter said sadly. “Swift was a good friend. He died like a true soldier.”

“A true soldier?” Ben snapped. “Let’s not pretend there was anything noble about the way he died. He was tortured, humiliated, and murdered.”

“And he didn’t give Logan anything, or we’d all be dead by now,” Walter countered. “That’s what I call noble.”

“Ben is right, Walter,” Rina said quietly. “I understand your sentiments, but nothing was noble about his death.”

“It was just a matter of time before Logan did this,” Page sighed. “Before he decided to hunt us down. We have to fight back.”

“We’re still not ready though,” Walter said. “We need more allies if we want to make a full assault. But Swift let us know exactly where to find them.”

“The major managed to send us a message before his execution,” Ben told her.

“And what does it say?” Rina asked.

“Well this is Swiftie we’re talking about, so it’s rather straightforward. ‘You will find allies in Aurora.’”

“Aurora?”

“I still don’t understand how anyone there could help us. Aurora is a dead land. There’s nothing there,” Page stated.

“What if that’s only what Logan has said?” Walter asked. “It’s our only lead, and we must follow it.”

“Can we get on with the plan?” Ben snapped. “I have an overwhelming urge to _shoot_ something.”

“We’ll need a ship,” Walter said. “You and Ben will commandeer one. Page and I will make sure the fleet doesn’t follow us.”

“You’ll need to go via the back alleys. And they’ll be crawling with soldiers,” Page warned.

“Not a problem. I know my way around the place,” Ben placated. “I’ll meet you at the back of the sewers. We’re going to show Logan just what traitors can do.”

“My men are putting together the materials we’ll need to get them burning. It should be quite a display,” Page told her.

“Aurora is a distant place,” Walter warned her. “It could be a while before we return.”

Ben was walking towards the door when he almost froze.

“You should visit your daughter. Make sure she’s all right.”

He heard, rather than saw, the white light the opened up and swallowed the princess. He turned on his heel, heading over to the rebel soldier, his face a mask of confusion.

“She adopted a child?” Ben asked.

“Adopted?” Walter repeated. “No, no! Didn’t anyone tell you about her daughter?”

“She’s given birth?” the captain said incredulously. “But she’s…she’s barely 21.”

Walter gestured to Ben to follow him, and they moved towards the sewers that led to the exit. In a hushed voice, Walter turned to Ben to explain.

“Rina had a childhood sweetheart called Elliot. He died the night we fled the castle to protect a group of protesters. Not long after we arrived in Mistpeak Rina started getting symptoms. Hero pregnancies move much faster than normal ones, and she gave birth to her baby shortly before she went after Saker.”

“She’s aided the revolution and worked with being a mother at the same time,” Ben said with wonder in his voice.

“She works hard,” Walter stated. “I have faith in her.”

“So do I, Wally,” Ben assured him.

 

* * *

 

 

The princess’ return dragged Ben out of bed, and he was still throwing on his shirt and red jacket when she arrived.  She wore the mask again. Maybe she’d bought a new one. But even that couldn’t block the flush in her cheeks when she stared at him, nor how she bit at her lip. He pretended he hadn’t seen anything, picking up his rifle and leading her to the back door of the impromptu war room.

“Swift taught me everything I know about being a soldier,” Ben told her as they pushed the door open. “Let’s show these bastards how it’s done.”

They waded through the back of the headquarters and into the sewers, slogging through mud and smelly water.

“I didn’t know you had a daughter,” Ben admitted.

“Why should you? You’re a stranger, a soldier in the army, she’s meant to be a secret to all but my innermost council, until I take the throne. Then she’s my heir.”

“What’s her name?” he asked.

“Lina,” the princess replied.

“Very similar to yours, your highness,” Ben teased. Rina sighed, and loudly.

“It’s…it’s abbreviated! It’s short for Evelina. Evelina Rose Black.” She smiled, but it was sad. “Elliot always loved the name Evelina. I teased him, told him he only liked it for the matching vowels, but he told me it was for me. Sappy nonsense about how I was his light.”

“Do you like sappy nonsense?” Ben asked.

“Very much so,” the princess replied. “Maybe I’ll be lucky, and there will be a kind nobleman willing to send me flowers and be romantic, and win my heart over.”

“I’ll vet them for you,” Ben offered. “They make me swoon, I send them to you.”

“Do you swoon easily, Captain Finn?” Rina asked.

“Not at all,” he promised her.

“But, do you have good taste?”

“I have _impeccable_ taste,” he promised her.

They reached the surface, coming out into the smelly, dark and smoggy atmosphere of Bowerstone Industrial.

“We need to get to the far end of the docks, so probably best not to shoot until we have to,” Ben warned. “Leave the talking to me. I have an idea.”

She followed him cautiously up the stairs and towards the warehouse, and then watched him march over to the Elite guard standing watch.

“Stop,” the man commanded. “Only Royal Guard allowed.”

“I know,” Ben began in a wheedling voice, “but can I just say, wow! You look so stylish, you know, with the helmets and everything.”

Rina turned her back and started shaking with suppressed laughter. What an excellent plan Ben had come up with. Truly, it was astounding how well he’d thought it out.

“Me and my friends were wondering if we could join you, because, I mean, you just make us ordinary soldiers feel so inadequate,” he pleaded.

“Leave,” the soldier barked.

“Come on. Don’t you have any leaflets, or application forms we can take with us? If we could just get inside and get your autographs. We are _huge_ fans,” Ben pressed.

“Leave, or we will be forced to terminate you,” the Elite snapped, waving angrily. He drew his sword.

“See? Even their vocabulary is stylish!” Ben commented. Within the blink of an eye he drew his gun and shot the Elite.

“You’re joking,” the princess drawled as she drew her sword.

“Okay, I admit it. I didn’t really have an idea,” Ben sighed, taking cover behind the wall. “But look! Gunpowder!”

Rina aimed her pistol around the wall and shot, managing not to get hit by flying bullets as her firearm took out a barrel of gunpowder.

“I was trying to make sure you didn’t hit them!” he yelled.

“Are you joking, Captain?!” she asked, reloading. “We send this warehouse up in fire and they’ll spend hours putting it out!”

“I didn’t think of that!” he admitted loudly.

“Where’s your strategic mind, Finn?” she barked, darting around the corner and dropping a summons bottle.

“Bloodstone!” he called.

“I shan’t ask!” the princess decided, her sword flashing through Elite as they battled their way into the warehouse. Smoke filled the air with each step, and they broke through crates and climbed up stairs to make their way through, a hail of gunfire and steel greeting them.

“Another bunch of tossers coming up!” the Captain snapped, and Rina slid down a bannister and into a mass of purple that lit up like a bonfire as a haze of Will blew them to kingdom come. She escaped the other side and pushed them to the side, clearing the way for Ben. Ahead of them, fireworks and explosions filled the air, Page’s distraction crashing machinery into walls and practically snapping boats in half.

“The way to the docks should be clear! Come on,” Ben called, rushing ahead of her, and almost skidding to a stop in front of a dockyard filled with purple-clad Elite.

“Or not.”

“It will be soon,” Rina promised, loading her gun and wiping off her sword. She charged into the masses, and Ben joined in with his rifle, sniping them from afar as blinding white metal and electrified corpses began littering the rapidly-emptying docks. As she downed the last man the dockyard doors flew open, and Walter Beck appeared to be rapidly running out of them.

“What kept you?” Ben snarked.

“We have to hurry!” Walter warned. “They’re going to be following us after all!”

“Buggering hob droppings,” Ben snarled. “Let’s grab a ship and get out of here.”

“I agree,” Rina announced, and leapt onto a nearby ship, which seemed to be the only one not on fire.

“What about Page?” Ben asked as the other two boarded.

“She’s staying here to co-ordinate the rebellion,” Walter said. “Someone has to be in charge.”

As the ship’s mast creaked into place, Walter took a deep breath of air, and sighed.

“I have a good feeling about this voyage.”

“What if Aurora really is a dead land?” the princess asked cautiously.

“Well, we’ll have seen some lovely sunshine,” Walter placated.

“And anything living there will be blown off their feet by our beautiful princess here,” Ben added. “And throw themselves at her feet, begging to be part of her army.”

“You’re a tease, Ben,” Rina called to him.

“I aim to lift your spirits, your highness,” he amended.

 

* * *

 

 

Walter went to bed early as Ben steered them towards Aurora, and Rina came out onto the deck to see how the Captain was faring.

“I wanted to say something,” she told him. “About when we were sitting in industrial, and I asked you not to call me princess.”

“Ah, did I distract you from something heartfelt?” he asked.

“You did, actually,” she told him. “I was going to say I’d rather you call me by my first name, whether that’s Rina, or Marine.”

“Your full name is Marine,” Ben said.

“Yes, after my mother’s Hero henchwoman,” Rina prompted.

“Nobody calls you Marine,” Ben said, confused. “Why do they never announce you as Marine?”

“Sometimes I get called Marianne,” she admitted. “I just started going by Rina after I got tired of my name being mixed up.”

“I’ll call you that, then,” Ben stated. “Rina. It suits you, love.”

“Love?” she repeated.

“Can’t a man have his pet names?” he asked.

“Are you going to be obstreperous and now tauntingly call me ‘love’ rather than address me by my name?” she demanded, but she wasn’t angry, and Ben could tell.

“I would never dream of teasing you, love,” he said, a little mockingly.  

“And yet you are,” she reminded him.

“Perhaps I like making you smile,” he challenged, and then as an added extra, “Rina.”

She gazed critically at him.

“Well, if you’re going to be obtuse, Captain Finn, I will leave you here and go to – Ben?”

His face was ashen.

“Get Walter out of bed. Now,” he whispered.

And Rina turned to see the full might of Albion’s royal fleet bearing down upon them.


	7. Chapter 7

There was nothing but gunfire and smoke for some time, and Ben only realised he was floating on a piece of ship when it bumped against something. With bleary, salt-crusted eyes he tried to look up, and found sunlight glaring into his pupils. With a snarl of pain, he raised an arm to block the sun and almost fell off the piece of hull. After a few moments he adjusted to the glare, and found himself floating against a broken dock. He hauled himself up and onto dry land, falling into the sand with great, heaving breaths. Sand in his hair, he sat up when his heart had ceased to pound like a drum, and looked around.

He was in what seemed to be a great, ruined city, with strange architecture and rocks strewn everywhere. He began to move, picking his way across the mess of rubble until he heard a shout in a language he couldn’t understand.

“I’m not here to hurt anyone,” he called. “Take me to your leader.”

A woman, armed with a rifle, neared him cautiously.

“You are…you are not an illusion. You are real?” she confirmed.

“Yeah. I’m real,” he assured her.

“You are Alban,” she stated.

“Wait, you know about Albion?” he asked.

“Yes. Kalin will want to meet you,” she told him. “Follow me.”

She made her way through the city and Ben followed, towards a huge building built beneath an enormous, overhanging rock. As they approached, his guide sang out a word in a strange language, and a noise from the building ahead reached his ears. Another woman, armed with sword and rifle, descended the long steps leading down from the building, her face confused.

“An Albion soldier?” she asked. “Does Logan finally send aid?”

“Does Logan do what now?” Ben asked. “You know of him?”

“We knew him,” the woman confirmed. “Come into the Temple and we shall talk. You look filthy.”

She turned, and Ben followed her up to the temple, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn’t really look that bad, did he? Apart from the ship being torn apart and losing sight of Walter, and of Rina-

Rina.

Where were they?

“I am Kalin, leader of the Aurorans,” the woman in front of him said. “Five years ago, a man named Logan wandered into the desert and found himself at the mercy of the Crawler, the darkness that hides in ancient temple long abandoned. His entire guard was murdered, and when he returned he was a shaking ruin of the man who had left us. We cared for him, healed him, and when he could stand, he took his ship back to Albion with the promise to raise an army and fight the Crawler.” Kalin looked down. “He never returned.”

“Five years ago?” Ben asked. “He came back to Albion and everything went to shit. He turned into a tyrant.”

“Perhaps the Darkness never truly left him,” Kalin said sadly.

“We came to Aurora because we thought you’d be able to help, but you’re in trouble as Albion is,” Ben realised.

“You say ‘we’,” Kalin began.

“The princess of Albion, and one of her soldiers, Walter Beck. We were ambushed by Logan’s fleet on the way here,” Ben told her.

“Then where are they?” Kalin asked.

“We were separated. But I highly doubt they’re dead,” he added quickly. “She’s a Hero, and Walter…Walter’s the toughest nut Albion ever produced. They’re fine.”

“There is another shore, not too far from here,” Kalin admitted.

“Where is it?” Ben asked.

“It leads to the temple where the Crawler dwells,” Kalin said solemnly. The blood drained from Ben’s face.

 

* * *

 

 

The excursion to the desert was finally ready, several hours later, and Kalin led the way, Ben only a few paces behind her, as they marched into the sands. The heat blasted onto Ben’s face and made him sweat, but the air, so dry and unlike Albion’s humid summers, seemed to whip it from him in seconds. The Captain was eager to cover ground, until Kalin stopped him. He saw shadows flickering in the distance, and watched as the Aurorans tightened their collective grips on their weapons.

“You can see it from here,” Kalin called. “The Darkness. It has found another victim.”

“It could be one of my friends!” Ben cried. He made a move forward but Kalin grabbed his shoulder.

“You cannot simply charge into the Darkness!” she barked. “It will consume you!”

“And what should I do?!” he snapped. “One of my friends could be in that mess right now!”

“And if you go, you will be lost!”

“As the priest said the soldier,” Ben began, drawing his rifle, “have a little faith!”

At that moment, a terrified scream rent the air.

_“WALTER!”_

Ben leapt forward.

As he charged down the hill, a figure staggered out of the dark mass, arms around their head to protect from heat. It was her. It was Rina. She collapsed, and moments after she hit the ground, Ben was there, arms around her.

“She is still alive,” Kalin noted. “The other one cannot be far away.”

He grasped her hand, and tried to summon a nonchalant grin as the Princess’ eyes cracked open, her expression dazed and lost.

“Taking a nap in the sun? Typical royalty,” he sighed. “You had me worried there for a while.”

“Walter?” she asked, her voice faint.

“Don’t worry, we’ll find him,” he promised. “You just sit tight, princess.”

As she blinked back into oblivion, he internally cursed for not addressing her by her name. A small team stayed with the princess, and Ben led the rest of them into the desert to find Walter.

“Can you help them?” he asked later on, as they dragged Walter back on a stretcher, the princess curled in Ben’s arms.

“The young one will be fine,” Kalin promised, and Ben felt his heart lift. “She is strong. But, we will need to tend to the older one, at once.”

“Hang in there, Walter,” Ben murmured.

 

* * *

 

 

A quiet whining was what woke the princess from her sleep, and though her eyes had barely opened she could smell Kieran, feel the laps of his tongue against her cheek and the soft brush of warm fur. She sat up, and a hand placed itself on her shoulder.

“You are awake. Good,” its owner said softly, and she found herself gazing into the smiling face of a tattooed woman in strange garb. “My name is Kalin, and you are in the city of Aurora. We have much to tell you.”

“Walter?” Rina asked. “How is he?”

“He is very fortunate to be alive,” Kalin told her. “But we have sadly seen his condition before. We may be able to help him.”

“Is there another of my friends here? I thought I saw- in the desert-”

“A devilishly handsome soldier by the name of Ben Finn?” Ben asked, moving over to her bed. “Not dead yet, my friend.”

“Please, come with me,” Kalin suggested, as both she and Ben helped the princess to her feet. Ben squeezed her shoulder comfortingly.

“Don’t worry,” he heard himself say. “He’s a tough old nut. He’ll pull through.”

But even as he said it, he knew he wasn’t convincing enough. He was scared, and she could see it, written into his eyes.

“It’s so good to see you,” he admitted. “When I was fished out of the local port and you and Walter…you weren’t there, I…I thought it was all over. Then I realised I was being an arse, and I worked my charms to get a search party out for you. Not that Kalin here needed much convincing.”

“Charms?” she murmured mockingly. He grinned at her.

“We are accustomed to misfortune,” Kalin stated, as casually as though she were discussing the weather. “Now it is time you saw our city.”

The stone covering the door rolled away, and Rina gazed out over the darkened, ruined mass of shapes.

“Welcome to Aurora, the city of nightmares,” Ben drawled.

“The Crawler did this,” Kalin said, haggard. “The being you fought in the desert caves. It appeared five years ago bringing darkness and death. The few of us who still live have known nothing but fear, ever since.”

She led them down the steps of the temple, her posture drooping.

“We never know when it will come, and we cannot hope to defeat the creature, or its spawn, without an army, even with someone like you by our side. Ben Finn speaks most highly of you, but you are not the first saviour to come here,” the Auroran told her. “Please. Walk amongst our streets. See this city first-hand.”

“I’ve had enough of looking at this place,” Ben admitted when she turned to him. “Just…look at the place. Please.”

Rina watched Kalin leave, moving up the stairs, and turned to the Captain, her face concerned.

“You were worried for me?” she asked.

“You may be a bloody Hero, but you and Walter are my friends,” he told her. “And you’re going to be my queen one day. Funny that I care, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t mean that,” Rina said, flushing. “I’m a Hero. I’ve breezed through things like this with ease.”

“Anything could kill you,” he stated.

“I’m very hardy to stab wounds.”

“Decapitation.”

“I could likely grow another head.”

“Now you’re being an arse.”

“How does _that_ feel, Captain Finn?”

“Like banging my head against a brick wall,” he admitted.

“Ah, what a strange revelation,” Rina drawled. She took his hand. “Dear Captain, I admire your concern. It’s just misplaced. Don’t worry about me.”

“Well, you worry Walter, I know that much,” he snorted.

“That’s true,” she agreed. Silence fell, and she didn’t let go of his hand, and Ben wanted to swallow.

“You should go see the city,” he told her.

“Mmm,” she agreed sadly. “I should.”

 

* * *

 

The revelation that Logan had been to Aurora, what he had faced, shocked Rina to her core, but when the surprise was gone, something at the back of her head realised this was the reason behind his going near-mad. It explained the late nights, the rings under his eyes, the bad decisions and the anger. It explained why her big brother had changed so drastically in such a short amount of time. The priestess continued her work on Walter as Rina stood outside, wrapped up warm against the cold. Ben Finn joined her momentarily, similarly warm.

“It explains a lot, you know,” she told him.

“About?”

“Logan. He was never like this when he was younger.”

“Forgive me for saying so princess, but the man has been a right royal arse for a while,” Ben pointed out.

“But what he went through- I know it doesn’t excuse anything- but it _explains_ so much, it finally lays him open. He was tortured, Ben, and he was trying to stop the people of Albion from going through the same,” she stated.

“By, what? Ruling through tyranny? How difficult would it have been to announce the threat to the world?” Ben argued.

“Oh yes, I can see the headlines,” Rina sniped. “Full spread. ‘King Goes Abroad, Comes Back Mad, Little Sister Put On Throne Because Logan’s Officially a Nutjob.’ And then what?”

“You’re defending him?” Ben asked.

“I’m saying I understand what he did. It’s still wrong. I’d have done differently. But still.”

“After what he’s done-”

“You and I both know, have both felt the full effects, of everything Logan has taken from us. Maybe me most of all. If it wasn’t for him, my baby would have a father, maybe I’d still be in the castle, happy and unaware, maybe-”

She broke off, her voice cracking, and took a moment to compose herself again.

“He’s my brother, Ben,” she whispered. “You must understand.”

“Maybe I do,” he muttered. “I don’t like it.”

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “It would probably be easier if I hated him.”

“It would,” he agreed. “But…then you wouldn’t be you.”

“And what,” she began, wiping away her tears, “makes me who I am?”

“You’re the princess who does odd jobs for men with chicken obsessions and finds rings lost to frightened boyfriends, who ventures into Hobbe caves to rescue children and never leaves a man behind. And you like to care for people,” he told her. “So that makes you a princess worth following. Even if you could stand to laugh more.”

“What’s your obsession with me laughing?” she asked, exasperated.

“Nothing. You just look better when you’re smiling,” he admitted.

“Thankyou for your attempt to input joy into my life,” she said primly. Ben grinned, a real grin this time, gazing at the princess. Kalin’s voice cut through their thoughts, and Ben looked over to where the Auroran was running towards them.

“The Priestess is making a breakthrough!”


	8. Chapter 8

 Mara waved her hands over Walter’s pale, prone form as Ben, Rina and Kalin knelt by him, concerned looks gracing all the faces present. The dog whined in the background and Rina shot him a gentle smile as if to assuage his fears.

“How is he?” Ben asked. “Is he going to make it?” His fist clenched slightly, distressed by thoughts of Walter coming so far, only to die abroad in his dreams. The priestess was stressed, moving rhythmically above the soldier, and she didn’t look happy.

“I do not know. The darkness is deep within him. Few ever wake,” she warned.

“But he’s improving, I mean you’re doing your thing and he’s getting better, right?” Ben asked, and a hint of begging slipped into his tone. Not Walter. Not out here. Not after all this.

“I do not wish to give you false hope,” the priestess sighed.

“Perhaps it would be better if we allowed him to rest,” Kalin suggested.

“Don’t worry,” Ben assured Rina, who wore that gut-wrenching gentle look on her face. “He’s a tough old nut. He’ll pull through.”

And then Walter coughed like the dying and opened his eyes, and Rina tried not to sob out his name.

“Oh balls to you all,” he growled exhaustedly. “You’re not burying me just yet!”

“See?” Ben said proudly. “I told you!”

“Yes,” Walter snorted, “shame my first sight had to be your ugly mug.”

“I’m sorry I left you,” Rina apologised. He shook his head.

“You did all you could, and don’t think I don’t know it!” he said, with the barest hint of reproach for thinking so. “I told you you’d make me proud.”

They helped him sit up, and Rina threw her arms around him, sobbing openly into his shirt. Walter held her tightly.

“Nobody ever gives me hugs,” Ben grumbled.

“That’s because you’ve got red on you,” Walter informed him.

“It’s dry! Very dry! And old!” he protested. The princess drew back from Walter, wiping her red eyes, and gave Ben a tearful smile.

“I don’t know,” she said, her voice thick and choked as she tried to fight her way back to humour, “he did send out a search party for us rather than completely lose his head.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Ben huffed.

“I mean it.” She squeezed his hand. “I don’t know if I’d’ve been so calm in your situation.”

“I had to find you, didn’t I?” he chuckled, as Walter swung his legs over the edge of the stone bed and shook.

“I’m glad you did,” she said softly. “Walter!” she cried, as the man pitched a little. “Are you all right?”

“It takes more than an ancient evil to knock me down,” Walter growled.

“You should go back to bed,” Rina told him.

“No. I need to feel fresh air on my face,” he informed her. “Lead me to the door and leave me for a bit.”

“I’m not letting you out of my sight,” Rina stated stubbornly.

“Damn it, girl,” Walter cursed. “I want to be in the open. I’ll be fine.”

“I will watch him,” Kalin promised. “You must rest, princess. You seem exhausted.”

“I’m too awake to sleep,” she said.

“Doesn’t matter. Go to bed,” Ben persuaded. Rina eyed the spare bed, her dog already curled up next to it.

“All right.”

 

* * *

  

It was just before dawn when Rina began to stir, distressed noises that alerted Ben. Peering around the door, he watched her fingers twitch in the bedclothes, approaching hurriedly as he unshouldered his rifle and leaned over her, grabbing her hand gently. Noises became words, _Elliot, useless, lost, mother, dark,_ dissolving into a high cry that stopped short when he pulled her up into a sitting position, waking her up immediately. She fixed him with huge, terrified eyes, chocolate hair falling around her shoulders as she panted in fright, hand on her forehead.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “It was just a nightmare. Did I disturb your sleep?”

“I was looking around the temple, love,” he placated. “I wasn’t asleep. Anything I can do?”

“It’s cold,” she noted.

“Bloody boiling during the day, but freezes your arse off during the night,” Ben muttered. “Do you need a blanket or something?”

“No,” she murmured. “I will be fine.”

“Oh come off it. Page will string me up if we get back to Bowerstone and you’re a solid mass of icicles,” he said. “Take my jacket at least.”

He unbuttoned the heavy red garment and she let him slide it around her shoulders, enjoying the remnant of his body heat still lingering on the fabric.

“Thank you,” she said gently. “It’s very kind of you.”

“I only offer my friends my clothes,” he informed her. “I’m just being a good friend.”

“You are a good friend,” she told him earnestly. “The best a princess could hope for.”

“Soon, it’ll be the best friend a queen could ever have,” he chuckled, rubbing her shoulder comfortingly. “If you don’t mind me prodding, what was your nightmare about?”

“I watched everything being covered by the Darkness,” she sighed. “And my mother’s voice, nagging in the back of my head, berating me as a useless Hero. I knew it was a dream because she never nagged me, and Elliot was screaming at me and he never raised his voice at me. But…it was still so real, and it hurt to watch everything turn into blackness.” She paused. “What if I can’t do it, Ben?”

“I’ve seen you take down a warehouse of Elite,” he told her. “You’re going to do fine.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You will. It’s your destiny or something.”

“Very comforting.”

“I am a man of many talents.”

Moonlight fell across her forlorn face and he pulled her a little closer, ensuring that she stayed warm.

“You don’t get enough hugs,” she said softly, slipping her arm around his waist. “I guarantee everyone in Bowerstone is going to be lining up to hug you to death once we take the castle.”

“Death?” he said, fake-afraid, and she smiled.

“Maybe not death. I need a new major in the army,” she amended. Ben paused.

“And you think I could do it?” he asked.

“Why not? You’re respected, well-loved, and you’ve got a good rapport with the men. Plus, you’re from the old guard and a hero of the revolution – or you will be – and I wouldn’t trust anyone else. Unless,” she stopped, “do you want to stay in the army?”

“Major Ben Finn,” he stated. “Sounds nice. Do I have to pose for a fancy picture?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Completely off the table,” he decided firmly. “Nope. Leaving the military forever.”

The princess laughed.

“A perk of the job,” she lamented. “What colour should my clothes be when I’m crowned?”

“You looked nice in blue,” he mused. “It would certainly contrast with all Logan’s purple. I’m pretty sure the castle staff is sick of purple now.”

“Blue it is,” she decided.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, enjoying the warmth curled up together, and Ben absentmindedly stroked her hair before realising what he was doing, and he pulled his hand down.

“Try and get some rest, princess,” he urged. “We’ve all got a long few days ahead of us.”

He moved away slowly, shooting her a comforting grin as he tried not to wince at the immediate cold that bit into him without his jacket.

“Keep it,” he said, when she offered it back.

“Ben, come back here,” she ordered. “I can fall asleep fine, but you’re freezing cold.”

“As her majesty commands,” he replied, moving back over to her, kicking off his shoes and sliding down next to her. “Rather improper.”

“It’s harmless. We’re just cold,” she told him. “Kieran.”

The dog got up and lay draped over them, and Ben felt the dog’s heat spreading over his body like a wave. It was wonderful. Rina curled an arm around her trusted companion, and cocooned in warmth, feeling safe, she finally fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

“Well,” Walter rumbled, standing pensively on the docks, “we didn’t exactly find the army we were looking for, and I feel about a hundred years older than when we left, but we’re finally ready.” He smiled at her proudly. “You’ve surpassed every hope I had for you. You’re the queen Albion needs. So come on, it’s time to gather your generals, and prepare for battle!”

The blue-clad princess put on her mask and dusted herself off, smiling at Ben as he climbed aboard the ship.

“You know, maybe I’ll take a little nap first,” Walter mused.

“You do that,” Rina agreed. “How are you feeling?” she asked her captain, as Walter made his way down the stairs.

“Bothersomely hot,” he replied. “In hindsight, maybe you should’ve kept the jacket.”

“Then I’d burn alive,” she pointed out.

“And we can’t let that fair face of yours do that before you’ve been crowned,” he agreed. “Or after. Or in between. Or frankly at all.”

“Shut up Ben,” she giggled.


	9. Chapter 9

“All right, I’ve got it,” Page announced, slamming her hand down on the map. “I take a small group of soldiers down this route and blow up the west barracks. It will draw their attention and open up the main route.”

“How’s that better than my idea?” Ben asked crossly.

“We will live longer than a few seconds?” Kalin suggested dryly.

“Oh. Well. Now you’re just picking holes,” he blustered.

“Give it up, boy,” the tiny bearded man at the end of the table sighed. “What I want to know is what my men need to do.”

“That’s for the future queen to decide,” Walter told him.

“Page knows the city best,” Rina stated. “We’ll follow her plan. Personally, loosing the entire coop of chickens onto the soldiers won’t do much to stem the tide of battle, so I’m sorry, Ben.”

“Fine,” he growled. “I only put mine forward to annoy her anyway.”

“I see you’ve really matured on your travels,” she drawled. “If you’ll look at the map, we can go through the details.”

“My ships will take you to the beach, here,” Kalin began, pointing at the drawn shoreline.

“We can expect heavy mortar fire, but most of Logan’s soldiers will be busy dealing with Page and her men,” Walter added.

“I want to be in the thick of the smoke, and the fire, and the glory,” Sabine said reverently. “If Page takes the west route, it’s only fair I take the east.”

“Which leaves the centre to us!” Ben announced. “Huh. Less chance of getting lost.”

“Then we’re agreed?” Walter asked.

“Are you sure you’re up to this, Walter?” Rina asked gently, brown eyes shining with concern beneath the fox mask.

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I may feel old and tired, but the day hasn’t come yet that I can’t charge into a good, old-fashioned fight,” he assured her. Rina’s eyes weren’t convinced. Fists were pushed into the centre as a warrior’s vow. “Let the battle for Albion begin!”

 

* * *

 

 

Close enough to the shore, the three of them hopped from the boat and waded onto dry land, guns at the ready. The princess dropped a summoning potion, and spectral Balverines spilled from the liquid. Ben shivered. He never really trusted those things. They were creepy and far too Balverine-shaped to ever be a good idea to him.

A mortar shell exploded nearby, and Ben coughed out the smoke.

“Our people are getting torn to shreds out there! They need our help!” he yelled.

“Let’s take down that mortar,” Walter growled.

Another boom sounded over their heads as they started to move, a crash and splinter and a gurgle of water, and Ben refused to look at the ship that had just died behind them.

“We’ve already lost one ship, Kalin’s could be next!” he warned, watching the princess roll behind a barricade of sandbags, aiming her gun over the top and pulling the trigger without looking. An Elite dropped like a sack of potatoes.

“You should lead from the front!” Walter called. “It’s time you did so!”

“Mortar!” Ben reminded them.

She led from the front like she was born to, sword and Will blazing a trail through the purple Elite, and when she got to the mortar she disassembled it with a cold fury of ice and wind, scattering the pieces, turning the metal brittle and useless should the Elite seek to rebuild it.

“Signal to Kalin to move in!” Rina ordered, and they ducked as Ben tossed up a flare, waiting for the ship to get in closer. Minutes later, the heavy wooden gates exploded, and Rina let out a sigh of relief. They were now, at least, in the city.

But the Old Quarter was burning. Even as Walter declared his joy at being in a close-combat situation, Rina couldn’t keep her eyes off the Old Quarter, going up in flames. Were the citizens all right? How many families were now homeless?

Smoke got in her eyes, and she used her Will to suck the choking air away, clearing their vision somewhat. Elite fell like daisies under a knife, and they progressed quickly up the street, past smoke-filled houses and choked-up ruins. Rina had not expected the house in front of her to explode, but Ben watched as she seemed to phase in and out of reality, her gauntlet switching, and then a barrier of Force Push was around them, keeping them from the debris. Dust nevertheless got past her, and they coughed it out as a tiny figure appeared from the smoke.

“Is this not the grandest time you’ve ever had?” Sabine declared as Boulder followed him from the carnage.

“Sabine!” Walter berated. “You almost blew us up!”

“You saw!” Sabine breathed. “A glorious beacon of freedom, burning in the night for all the-”

Boulder began to make a series of increasingly distressed sounds and the Dweller turned to him in confusion.

“What is it Boulder- oh, bloody hell! Move, move!” Sabine said urgently, and they fled as a grenade fell upon their previous position.

“It’ll take more than a grenade to finish off that old sod,” Walter chuckled as the two vanished deeper into the city.

“Meanwhile, let’s do what he says, and get moving!” Ben prompted. “We don’t have all day, and the princess here will look like utter sod if she has to be crowned after a long battle.”

“I’ll look fine,” she said primly. “I’m more concerned about the resident pyromaniac.”

“You’re not the only one,” Ben muttered.

Will and guns blazed as the three of them made their way towards another gate, joined by a new wave of Dweller soldiers who fought like complete animals, hardy and mountain-roughened. The Elite were decked, but the gate remained stubbornly closed.

“We’ll go this way!” the princess announced, running across a broken roof and dropping down from above into a burning building, connected to a street full of Elite.

“Look, there’s Page!” Walter said, pointing down to a lower street. “She certainly knows how to handle herself,” he commented, as she smacked an Elite between the eyes and stabbed his comrade. The street they were in was fortified, but ahead lay a barricade of burning wood and brick.

“There’s no way we’re getting past that barricade,” Walter began. Ben scoffed loudly.

 “Oh please, we’re in a street. Haven’t you noticed the houses and doors? We just need to perpetrate a little bit of breaking and entering, followed by some flanking and filleting,” he informed the older man. They picked their way through a burning building and Walter gazed down to their right.

“Come on Page,” he murmured, just as the woman herself appeared.

“About bloody time!” Ben yelled.

“I couldn’t leave you by yourself, Captain Finn!” Page barked. “Unimaginable chaos would ensue!”

“Your vote of confidence is lovely!” he told her loudly, as the four of them, bolstered by dwellers and rebels, ploughed through the Elite, blood mixing with purple as body after body hit the floor.

“There’ll be more coming,” Walter warned. “And we need to find a way around this gate.”

“Always with the damn gates!” Ben declared.

“We need explosives to get past this door,” Page said. “But I used all of mine up on the way here.”

 “If only we knew some sort of tiny crazy old man who enjoyed blowing things up,” Ben muttered.

 

 **BOOM**.

 

The door blew open, causing Walter to fall back with an audible curse, and Sabine and Boulder stepped through.

“Hahah! Did you see that, Boulder? Let the whole city bow to our thunder!” Sabine roared in delight.

“Hang on, how’d you get to the other side in the first place?” Ben demanded.

“Dwellers have their ways, my boy,” he said mysteriously, twirling his moustache around his finger. “Is there anyone left to kill?”

“There will be,” Page said. “Reinforcements are coming. Kalin’s fleet didn’t manage to get them all.”

“We’ll hold them off,” Ben said. “A tiny pyromaniac, his giant friend, a dashing captain, and a beautiful, wrathful woman who looks like she wants to feed me my own liver should be able to handle Logan’s men.”

“Come on Boulder, there’s more fighting to be done,” Sabine said viciously as he headed down the road.

“Good luck in there,” Ben told the princess. “Hope the crown fits.”

“If it doesn’t, I will be incredibly cross,” she promised.

“Let’s finish this, while I can still stand up on my own,” Walter said.

 

* * *

 

“Shall we knock?” Walter asked. “Nah, let’s surprise him.”

The two of them booted down the door and were greeted with the sound of steel rasping past metal.

“So, this is how it ends. The old fool, and the child who ran away.” He sheathed his sword. “You’re finally the woman I envisioned you being.”

“She’s a lot more than that,” Walter assured him. “And now she’s ready to take your place.

“Perhaps the time has come for someone else to lead Albion,” he said quietly.

 “You were never a ruler, just another tyrant,” she told him starkly.

“Do you think I might have had good reason to be?” He replied, his voice soft.

“We’re not interested in your reasons,” Walter told him.

“Cower behind ignorance if you will, but my sister deserves to know the truth,” the king retorted.

“Save it for the trial, Logan,” Walter snapped. “You can beg for your life then.”

“Wait.”

The single command came from the princess.

“Give us a moment, Walter,” she requested. “Please. He won’t hurt me.”

“You can talk once the troops have been made to stand down,” Walter bargained. “Page and the others are out there right now, and if they don’t get reprieve they might not be standing for much longer.”

“All right,” she sighed. “But I’m coming with you.”

Any soldiers remaining in the castle laid down their arms as Walter escorted the king, like a father with a naughty child, towards the dungeons. Rina followed, holding Logan’s crown in her hands and slowly twisting it around and around. Finally, they reached the prisons, and Walter pushed her brother into a dank, dark cell, locking the door. Rina gave him the crown and he left with the key.

“I know what you went through in Aurora,” she told him.

“I had thought I saw Auroran flags flying on the ships,” he said. “And how, exactly, do you know?”

It only took him a second.

“You, also?”

“One of your ships destroyed ours and sent us off-course. Walter and I washed ashore by a set of caves. We saw no way forward except through them, and we kept going. Walter…Walter is never going to be the same again,” she whispered.

“Sister-”

“It made sense,” she told him. “Why you changed. The nightmares. The scars and the haggard look. The darkness slowly seeping out of your rule. We carry it in us now, just the tiniest piece, but it’s enough, isn’t it?”

“You understand,” he murmured.

“Brother.”

“Sister.”

Rina hugged Logan through the bars of his cell, crushing her fingers into his dark hair and inhaling the familiar scent, the one that reminded her of safety and love, and home.

“There will be a trial,” she promised.

“Rina,” he said faintly. “You don’t have time for that. I was visited by Theresa, the seer of the Spire. Sister – now that you know, that you understand, you must hear this. The Darkness, the Crawler, all of it is coming to Albion. Sister, you must prepare. Do you understand? The Darkness is coming here!”


	10. Chapter 10

There was a fanfare, and glaring lights, and so much confetti. She was dressed in blue – she had insisted on the colour – fur around her neck, hair scraped back. Her fingers shook with nerves, Logan’s words running through her head, as the doors were opened to reveal her. Her new subjects were screaming in delight, her allies were bowing. The light burned her eyes and it felt like it was too much, as she moved out onto the parapet, breathing in deeply. Sabine bowed as she passed, and she spared Ben a glance, and when he winked at her, the tension melted out of her body. Walter placed the crown on her head, and he could barely be heard above the shouting, partying crowds, claiming her as the new Queen. The gold glinted in the sunlight, and suddenly there was no burn but there was warmth, and she waved, smiling delightedly at the people below her, laughter bubbling up in her throat. She caught Ben’s eye – why did she keep looking at him? He grinned, and her smile went wide, infectious to anyone around.

 

* * *

 

 

Her new aide was charmingly slimy, but even he could not distract her from the glaring first article on her agenda – the bugger even highlighted it, seemed charmed by the idea of Logan’s judgement, and Rina sighed. She’d moved him to a better cell, and begged someone to make sure he ate, a task Walter had volunteered for. Walter said he was looking better, which she was immensely thankful for, but she still had to judge him in front of her people. But could she do it when she understood him so well? They’d both faced the Darkness, and as much as the path he’d chosen was wrong, she sympathised. Her Hero blood had healed her somewhat, but Logan didn’t have that same strain.

And yet she owed her people justice.

This was unfair.

Every step into the throne room seemed to weigh upon her, even as her subjects cheered her, and she sat on her throne like a lump of lead, watching Walter lead Logan in. She barely said a word until her allies said their pieces. Sabine called for his head, and loudly. Ben was no less vigorous in wanting him dead, tears pricking his eyes as he mentioned Major Swift, and that made Rina sigh with the memory. Yet Page, ever the surprise, seemed eager to argue his case for true justice, not mere vengeance. Kalin was hurting, stinging, unsure of vengeance or something better.

“I had good reason to do everything that I did,” Logan argued. Rina stood.

“King Logan, your defence has been heard,” she told him. “But there are many here who do not understand, so let me be brief. There is an evil in Aurora that stirs, and that evil will be making its way to Albion’s shores, and soon. In his defence, Logan sought to make the country strong to fight the darkness. His methods were for just reasoning.”

She paused under a hail of angry shouts.

“And they were wrong! Entirely wrong! I defend nothing he did!”

The shouts died a little, confused murmuring filling the throne room.

“This is not the time for revenge. We need your help, Logan,” she announced.

“Logan’s life will be spared, and his soldiers will join the Royal Army,” Walter announced, a hail of jeers flying towards her.

“You will never forgive me,” he reminded her. “You told me so, once.”

“A princess told you that,” she said gently. “The Queen doesn’t agree.”

“Then we should work together,” he suggested, hand raising to her shoulder. “We are siblings, and children of Albion. Take the castle, and you’re welcome to the throne – I’m glad to be rid of them.”

 

* * *

 

The road to rule was full of people, glittering translucent figures that reminded Rina of her allies. But the presence of the gypsy in front of her, the solid, red-clad woman, filled the Queen’s heart with palpable rage, and she broke past the seal symbol and cornered the woman. To Theresa’s credit, she did not even flinch.

“You hid my true purpose from me,” Rina told her. “You planted seeds of doubt and hate further than they needed to go. Are you pleased with yourself? My brother is tainted. My oldest friend will never be the same again. My kingdom is torn. Seer of the Spire, you have wrecked my family once again.”

“I have done nothing but set you where you needed to go,” Theresa said calmly. “In less than a year, Albion will be attacked by the Crawler. You are the only monarch capable of stopping it.”

“And how do I stop it?” Rina asked.

“You will not. The Crawler will come to Albion in a year from now. You can only prepare, and save as many as you can, whether as a tyrant or a hero,” the Seer told her.

“Go choke,” Rina invited. “I don’t want to see you until the Crawler is defeated.”

“Then you will not,” Theresa said with a sigh. “Goodbye, your majesty.”


	11. Chapter 11

There was a large amount of money moving between the Sanctuary every time Rina took to rebuilding and improving, and more than once, Ben watched his Queen darting out of the castle to collect bounties, sell jewels, and raid ancient dungeons. He was almost a little jealous. He’d been promoted to Major, and was now helping organise the army, but Rina still got to adventure around Albion like in the early days of the Revolution. Spending in the markets was up since she’d lowered the taxes, resulting in more disposable income, and so many things had gone up in value due to the demand. The queen had hoarded gems and other valuables for some time, and the amount of beautiful baubles she carefully sold, so as not to flood the market, was making her a pretty penny and going directly to the Treasury. Hobson had once walked in on the amount of gold and let out a sigh of enchantment.

On a patrol once, a little boy had begged Ben for an autograph, and then, delighted, read out Ben’s name in a clear, cheerful voice.

“I learned to read from the school,” he told the Major. “You’re ace!”

Ben was enjoying his higher wages, living in a small house in the rebuilt Old Quarter with two other soldiers and walking to the castle every day. How Rina survived the pomp of the place, even with the new, clean and bright blue décor, was strange to him. He sometimes sat in on the judgements she made, making snide comments and causing her to stifle no small number of laughs. He was there the day she made her decision on Aurora, and Reaver’s exasperated repartee when the Queen chose to rebuild the city made Ben want to clock him in the face. His lack of respect for common life was exhausting. He’d immediately returned to his soldiers afterwards, and no one was more shocked than he when Rina bounded down the stairs towards him in the courtyard, grinning.

“Want to go treasure hunting?” she asked.

“Beg pardon?” he said.

“I’m going to Aurora to retrieve treasure buried in the desert,” she told him. “I thought you could do with the trip. I know you like to wander.”

“Has anyone ever told you, you’re the best monarch ever?” Ben inquired.

“I’ve yet to hear it,” she stated. “I’m glad you think so.”

“How many kings and queens pull their bored Majors away on fun trips?” he queried. “You’re the best.”

“Thank you,” she laughed. “Come on. I haven’t seen the city yet. I must know what it looks like now that it’s been fixed up.”

 

* * *

 

 

Aurora looked resplendent when Ben and Rina arrived, and the queen was awed by the beautiful buildings that had been raised from the ashes. The sun was bright and hot overhead, and Ben unbuttoned his uniform to allow the breeze to flow through to his skin. Aurorans on all sides bowed and curtseyed in respect to their new queen, and children handed her gifts. She stooped to sign autographs, ruffling multiple heads and beaming widely. When they broke through the ranks of the fans, she was blushing softly, and she shot a bashful smile at her Major.

“I’ve never seen you like that,” he commented as they made their way down the sand-covered streets. She tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

“You’ve never seen me with my daughter,” the queen replied.

“Why isn’t she in the castle?” Ben asked. “I’ve not seen a small princess running around.”

“My daughter will stay in Brightwall until the business with the Darkness is done,” she told him. “I would have brought her to Bowerstone, but I didn’t want to risk it now that I know the Crawler will come to us.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Ben agreed. She smiled. They continued in silence up the street to the entrance to the shifting sands, and passed the defensive wards. A feeling of safety seemed to leave them as they walked through, and the air thickened somewhat. They cleared the large doors, and looked over the expanse of sand.

“Last time I was here, I collapsed,” Rina said quietly.

“And we found you,” Ben told her. “Was this why you brought me along?”

“Ben, I…” she trailed off. “I don’t want to be alone in this desert again. Even,” she gestured to her dog, “with Kieran around.”

He gently took her hand and she squeezed his fingers in reply.

“Quite understandable,” he commented. “If you collapse again, though, I’ll know you’re taking another nap.”

“It worried you,” she pointed.

“It did not!” he protested.

“It did!” she retorted, as she followed her map towards the location of the Star. “What was it? ‘Taking a nap in the sun? Typical royalty. You had me worried there for a second.’ You even admitted to it!”

“You pass out in terrible places,” he complained.

“I’ll endeavour to fall over in the castle next time,” she sniped.

Whatever Ben had been going to say, a gasp broke it off. Hooded figures burst from the sand beneath them. He drew his gun and Rina’s hands flared.

“Bloody Sand Furies,” she snapped, and dived headfirst towards one, blowing it out of the sand with a mixture of ice and lightning. Ben, to his credit, tried very hard to hit one, but they were exceptionally fast. The moment he got a bullet in one, he crowed, feeling cold and static on his back as the queen tore her enemies apart behind him. The fight lasted longer than he’d expected, and he wondered if they were this hardy because of their years in the desert.

It finally ended, and Ben was left sweaty and panting in the wake of the attack.

“There will probably be a lot more of them in Sandfall Palace,” Rina commented.

“Bollocks on a shitty stick,” Ben mumbled. “Great! When do we leave?”

Now, apparently, because Rina grinned at him and wandered down a sandy gully. They were halfway down, and Rina had just brushed off her sooty hands when a voice called out to them.

“You’re going to make someone very happy… **IF HE LIKES UGLY BIRDS WITH NO PERSONALITY**!”

“Oh wonderful, a gnome,” Rina hissed. “Eat the potter’s arse, you ceramic nightmare!”

“Your friend’s a pretty girl! All the men must just _love_ those blond sideburns!”

“Is he talking about me?” Ben asked.

“Not any more.”

Her pistol flew out from her side and a bullet flew through the air, smashing the offending gnome into pieces with a squawk of fury.

“Never talk to a creepy man who’s abandoned his entire family to collect gnomes,” Rina warned. “They’ll be possessed and shout insults _at every bloody passer-by._ ”

“You must have been desperate for renown,” Ben commented.

“You have no idea,” she muttered.

They moved further down the gully and through a small cave opening. Rina lit up the darkness with her fire gauntlet, but soon they came out into a huge, well-lit cavern with architecture crumbling around them. They made their way cautiously down the sandy slope and into a huge palace. Within seconds, the familiar sound of Sand Furies met their ears, and they charged into another fight. When a Sand Fury’s movements were observed, they quickly became less tricky to deal with, and soon Ben had the hang of killing them, though when they dodged his bullets he really did want to throw the gun at them. They rapidly defeated their foe, and Rina led the way down a small flight of stairs, only to be ambushed by more Furies. For some time, neither of them could say anything as they fended off the waves of aggressive hooded women, but they were glad to be out of the oppressive heat.

They got a brief reprieve in a large, slightly-flooded room the size of Bowerstone Square, and both caught their respective breaths and traded health potions.

“It would be lovely here,” Rina commented as she stooped to pick flowers. “If not for the fact that it’s filled with Sand Furies.”

“We could garrison an outpost here,” Ben said. “The water’s fresh. If we can get rid of the Sand Furies we could grow things here.”

“Interesting,” Rina observed. “But, would anyone want to be garrisoned here?”

“That’s a good point,” he agreed.

They made their way up the stairs, navigating the raised walkway and fending off more attackers. Beneath the lintel of a large door, paused again, gazing into a large room. At the far end stood a podium, and on that podium was a diamond as large as Ben’s head.

“Fuck,” he commented, and they ran over. The queen reached out to touch it. “Careful,” he warned.

“It’s probably trapped,” she agreed, then swiped it from its holdings and tackled Ben onto the floor. Nothing happened – but then the floor exploded with Sand Furies.

“Fuck,” Ben said again, and Rina started to glow. “What are you doing?” he yelled.

“Hold on tight!” she warned, and he gripped her arms. Seconds later, they vanished from the Temple.

 

* * *

 

The world flashed in Ben’s eyes and he fell for a few seconds, still holding the queen tightly. With a sudden thump, he landed on solid ground, and let go. Rina moved away, and he looked up to see the queen brushing down her clothes. He sat up, gazing around at the place they’d landed in. His head clacked against a table, and he let out a pained curse, getting to his feet.

“Good afternoon, Jasper,” she said cordially to a much older, slender man standing by a dog basket. Kieran clambered into it, curling up.

“Your Majesty,” Jasper replied politely. “Will Major Finn be requiring anything? A refresher? A change of clothes?”

“A guided tour?” Ben asked.

“Certainly, sir,” Jasper agreed. “I have fresh military dress in the cupboards if required later.”

“So what even is this place?” Ben asked.

“This is my Sanctuary,” Rina told him. “My mother built it.”

“It’s cosy,” he remarked.

“It was a life-saver during the rebellion,” she stated. “No rebel ever had a better headquarters than one that could only be reached by teleport.”

“Didn’t fancy the army of Furies?” he asked with a grin.

“We can go back if you’d like,” she offered. He shuddered.

“The less time I spend in the desert the happier I will be.”

“If you’d like to follow me, I can show you the Sanctuary,” Jasper offered. Ben followed the shorter man to the furthest room east as Rina vanished into another. “In there is the LIVE room. We’ve never figured out quite what it’s for, and Her Majesty is content not to know. She’s bought a few odds and bobs from some shop there, and I’ve arranged them nicely with a floral touch, but really, it’s peculiar and we tend not to go near it.”

Jasper gestured to the next door along, leading Ben inside.

“This is the treasure room.”

“Bloody _hell,_ ” Ben swore, spotting the huge pile of gold sitting opposite him.

“Along here are various treasures the Queen has accumulated over her travels,” Jasper continued. “Along with a vast sum of wealth. I’m so glad I warned her to hoard and keep buying real estate.”

“Wait, this is all from owning buildings?” Ben asked.

“And a considerable amount of pie-baking,” Jasper agreed.

“Wait a minute,” Ben began, looking over a nearby shelf. “Is that…is that Simmons’ head?”

“A trophy,” Jasper corrected. He wafted a polite hand by his nose. “Along with many others.”

Ben examined the wall. There were books and flags and a chicken, strange things his Queen had picked up throughout the rebellion. He shot Jasper a confused look, but the Butler merely shrugged.

“Giving away all my secrets, Jasper?” Rina asked, coming into the Treasury.

“Merely showing the Major your trinkets,” he placated.

“You’ve got Simmons’ head,” Ben stated.

“I don’t know why I picked it up,” she told him faintly.

“Is it kleptomania?” he asked.

“Or a Hero thing,” she sighed. “I can’t help myself! I need trophies, I don’t know why.”

“Whatever it is, they all need dusting,” Jasper muttered.

“Shall we go?” Rina asked. “Hobson will want this diamond appraised.”

She gestured to Ben, and he moved out of the Treasury.

“A quick word, madam?” Jasper requested.

“Of course. Wait in the map room, Ben, it’ll only take a moment,” Rina suggested. The Major sat down on the wooden rim near the map table, and she smiled briefly at him before she approached her butler. “What is it, Jasper?”

“It’s not my place,” he said, and Rina cringed inwardly, “but if you so desire I can have a few little packets delivered to your rooms, along with a suitable vintage and some appropriate attire. I even have a few aromatic candles – goodness knows where they came from, but they might be useful.”

“Jasper,” Rina began slowly, “are you…are you trying to talk me into sleeping with Major Finn?”

“Are you not already?” he asked, somewhat surprised. “I…I beg your pardon, your majesty. That was out of turn.”

“No, no, it’s…it’s nice that you can speak your mind,” she assured him faintly. “I suppose I haven’t given much thought to…that sort of thing.”

“I understand. Master Elliot was always dear to you. If I have offended in any way…”

“Not at all,” she reassured. “I know I’d need to marry one day, but…”

“Queens alone can take luxuries the wives of Kings don’t have,” Jasper informed her. “If you wish to…relax…with Major Finn, I heartily suggest doing so. Albion is a stressful country to rule, and I don’t wish to see you done in with some appalling illness or such because you didn’t find a moment for yourself.”

“Thank you, Jasper,” Rina mumbled.

“And, if I may, he is a rather handsome fellow, if a little brusque.”

“Very,” she agreed. “Thanks, Jasper. I’ll see you soon.”

She moved out into the war room with a slightly-buzzing head. Relaxing and unwinding with Ben? She couldn’t deny she found him attractive, but, sex? It just hadn’t been on her mind during the rebellion. Maybe she hadn’t been looking hard enough.

“Everything all right?” Ben asked.

“He wants me to throw out the head,” she lied, and was pleased that her speech lessons had taught her to make falsehoods so quickly. Of course, it had been in the way of formulating gossip, but her snobby tutor had taught her one thing, at least.

“I’d bury it,” Ben agreed. “Simmons…went through a lot. It doesn’t seem right, you know?”

“I had no idea,” she apologised. “If you’d like, we can go to Mourningwood another day, and bury it.”

“I’d appreciate that, love,” he said gently.

“Then we’ll make it a date,” she decided.


	12. Chapter 12

A few weeks after the excursion to Aurora, Ben found himself writing a shopping list of goods in his shared housing, hair ruffled from having just rolled out of bed. Gould, Grove and Tick lived with him, and one of them would surely go shopping at some point during the week. Grove had given up on alcohol entirely and was now drinking copious amounts of fruit juice. They were running low. As he was pinning the list to the door, someone rapped sharply on the other side, and, curious, Ben tried the handle, opening it to reveal Rina, dressed in a mixture of mercenary and highwayman gear – the kind he’d seen them selling for women. She still wore her crown, and her chocolate hair was neatly secured in a braid.

“Your majesty?” Ben began politely.

“Page has some business she wanted to discuss,” the Queen said. “Did you want to come along? It’s all very cloak and dagger and I know you like adventure.”

“Let me just get my uniform on, and I’ll be right with you,” Ben promised, and darted off to locate his jacket and smooth down his hair. His sword and rifle were hastily slung onto his back, and he shut and locked the door to his house, following the Queen down the road to Industrial.

“I admit, I appreciate being your first port of call for your adventuring malarkey,” he told her with a grin.

“I merely understand you have a short attention span,” she teased. “If I’m not careful, you’ll go scurrying off to some pirate ship and vanish into the sunset.”

“Been reading my works, have you?” Ben asked.

“Someone was using a page to wipe up a beer stain, and when I saw your handwriting scrawled on the paper I had to rescue it. I really do need to know all the dark secrets of my allies,” she replied airily.

“Not a personal curiosity?”

“That would be telling,” Rina sang. “Now come on. Page won’t wait forever.”

A child ran up to her, holding out a scrap of paper, and smiled crookedly when she signed it. The girl’s mother ran over to gather her child, and gushed profusely about the reinstated child benefits. Rina merely gave her a regal smile and ruffled the girl’s hair, watching a beggar join them somewhat on their journey to Industrial. As they crossed into the cleaner, smogless streets, he turned and headed to the renovated shelter, where the owner welcomed him with open arms, waving to the Queen.

“I helped her recover her fiancé,” Rina explained.

“Do you just instinctively know when people need help?” Ben asked curiously.

“Hero thing,” she said with a shrug.

They crossed the bridge and navigated the streets of Industrial, making their way in silence down to the old rebel base. Rina pushed open the door and they waded through the muck and mud to Page’s war room.

“It’s not every day a Queen walks into rebel headquarters,” Page said warmly. “You’ve changed the world since we last stood here.”

“You were there too,” Rina told her. “And without you, I wouldn’t be.”

“But we still have much to do,” Page sighed. “Crime is becoming a serious problem now that Logan’s soldiers don’t patrol the streets. There’s one man who has the monopoly on the crime. His name is Nigel Ferret, and when I tell you that every criminal in Bowerstone reports to him it’s not exaggeration. I can’t deal with him alone, and he’s elusive, but I found how to get to him.” She paused. “You brought Mr Finn?”

“Oi! I am her adventuring buddy!” Ben protested.

“What do you want me to do, Page?” Rina asked quickly.

“Kidd went undercover with a gang of robbers to smoke him out. Ferret’s men are going to strike a tavern in Bowerstone Market,” the woman told her. “If you get there in time, you can stop the raid. At least one of the thugs could tell you where Ferret is hiding.”

“We had a real problem with thugs trying to raid these sewers,” Ben recalled. “Every so often they’d come through from another part of the system with guns blazing. They did tone down the raids when they found a brigade of the royal army waiting for them though.”

“It’s good to know you kept up morale,” Rina told him.

“That’s practically my life’s work,” he informed her. “Keep the troops happy and keep up morale.”

“I couldn’t ask for a more skilled Major then,” she decided.

They left the sewers, enjoying the cleaner air around Bowerstone Industrial, and Rina took off her crown and stuck it in her bag, ruffling her hair free. Ben was entranced by the sight, the warm brown spilling around her eyes. She noticed him watching and smiled, motioning for him to keep moving as they crossed the bridge and headed up to Bowerstone Market. The Marketplace was suspiciously quiet for the middle of the day, and the Queen drew her rifle and motioned for Ben to keep down. The doors to the Cock in the Crown were tightly shut, which in itself was odd.

They crept over to the closed doors and poked their heads above a window, watching four mercenaries hold the owners and a few publicans at gunpoint. The leader seemed to be saying something about killing those who caused trouble. She dived through the window, rolling into a kneeling position with her rifle at the ready and startling everyone inside. Before anyone could say a thing the leader was dead, and Ben’s gun echoed alongside hers as he leapt in as well. A short fight ensued, barely long enough to get Ben’s blood going, and when it was over Rina stooped and searched the bodies, finding a letter.

“Here we are,” she began, clutching a key and the paper. “They’re hiding in the sewers of Bowerstone Market.”

“No one ever hides anywhere nice,” Ben complained. “It’s always ‘the sewers’ or ‘the creepy cave network’ or ‘my mum’s basement.’”

“Reaver,” Rina reminded him.

“I take it back. I take it all back.”

They left the pub hurriedly, leaving the bodies to be taken away, and ran over the bridge. Rina vaulted over the stairs and landed in front of a heavy metal door that rattled when she tried the handle. She slid the key in and twisted it, and the door opened. Ben followed her as she went in, rifle at the ready, and they descended a few steps and kicked open the wooden doors opposite them, revealing a room filled with thieves and thugs. Nigel Ferret was in the centre, and he looked more shocked than any of them.

“You again!” he squeaked, and he opened his mouth to say more but the queen practically threw herself towards him and he let out a shriek and fled, thugs blocking his escape route. Ben looked at the Queen, who drew her sword. They set to work, slicing and blasting through the assembled meat shields in their path. Breathing heavily, Ben dispatched thug after thief and watched the queen diving gracefully around the small underground room, her hair flying as she smashed a criminal in the face with her elbow and then stabbed him. Something strained at his trousers and he wanted to cry, downing a thug and realising that the room was empty.

“Let’s go,” Rina urged, and barrelled through a nearby door into the next room. Ben followed, aiding her in her carnage. Blood flew, sparks danced, and swords flashed as they methodically cleansed each new area of scum. They descended into the bowels, covering themselves in soot and blood. Both of them were going to need to get changed after this. Or need a bath. Or both.

Ben imagined the queen naked and repressed a shiver of pleasure.

There was an air of finality as they reached one door, and Rina pushed it open as the sound of a cell door sliding shut reached their ears.

“I believe I can state with relative confidence that your efforts are in vain,” Ferret informed them. “Even should it transpire that you vanquish my associates, this door is completely impenetrable.”

Ben noticed the lurking, hulking bodyguards loitering either side of Ferret’s cell and swallowed.

“In addition to which,” the criminal continued, “this cell contains a secret egress, through which I may abscond whenever I desire. Meanwhile, my compatriots shall brutalise your person.”

Purple glass slipped through the queen’s fingers and splashed onto the floor. Bulky shadows writhed into Balverine form all around her, and Ben reloaded his rifle and began firing like his life depended on it. Rina tore into the thugs like a whirlwind, blasting out ice and fire whilst her sword laid waste to them. It was exhilarating to watch a Hero in action, although the smell of burning skin was exceptionally unpleasant.

He’d returned to firing his gun when the Queen leapt into the air and fixed her legs around a man’s neck. Her hips _twisted_ , and Ben let out a loud moan at the sight. It was somehow incredibly erotic to watch her do that, and he managed to shoot his man without realising it. They collapsed, and the door opened once more to reveal Page, who strode in like it was nothing.

“I see you haven’t lost your touch,” the former rebel commented. “I’m surprised his men were foolish enough to fight you.”

“Truth be told, my superlative intellect notwithstanding, it would appear that this is not, in fact, the cell I so confidently referenced earlier,” Ferret admitted. “The one with the secret exit has two beds.”

“Good,” Rina said calmly, and, ignoring his loud shouts and offers of money, the Queen of Albion turned and stalked out of the room. Ben followed her eagerly.

 

* * *

 

The evening sun was warm on their faces as they left the hideout, but Rina quickly found hers blocked by Ben’s head. She stared at him for a few seconds as the rugged soldier seemed to glare at her in a strange, frustrated fashion. With a cry of surprise, she was seized by the wrist, and dragged beneath the bridge, where the man pinned her against the wall and grasped her waist.

“You can’t kill a man with your hips like that and think it won’t have an effect on me,” he breathed, and then his mouth was devouring hers like she was his last meal.


End file.
